


Unexpected Things You Find In The Woods

by MaresThird



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Ex-Girlfriends, F/F, National Women's Soccer League, Some angst, US Women's Soccer National Team, lots of fluff, my story my timeline, some violence, stalker issues, total messed up timeline of actual real events- don't at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 149,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaresThird/pseuds/MaresThird
Summary: After winning the World Cup, Tobin gets a chance to appear on a wilderness survival show to raise money for charity. It means missing a few Victory Tour matches, but she's cool with it and so are her coaches.Follow along as she prepares for her trip, meets her survival pro she's teamed up with and possibly falls in love.There will be some ups and downs as she navigates through meeting this refreshing woman who makes her feel things she hasn't felt in a long time. Will their different lifestyles be too much for them to stay together or will they have truly found love in the woods?





	1. Acceptance

September 19, 2015 

 

Tobin was relaxing on her couch, her legs splayed wide across the ottoman as she flicked through the channels on TV with her remote. She was doing her hard chill this early afternoon before the match this evening, glancing at her watch and thinking she should eat something soon. Alex, her roommate, was out doing her normal pregame ritual: shopping. 

Her phone rings and she drops the remote on her lap, picking up the phone and seeing the caller ID. She hurriedly swipes to answer. 

“Hello?” she answers, her voice rough and deep from a mix of not speaking much today and being sleepy. “Yes, this is she.” 

She scoots up on the couch, sitting straight and letting her bare feet touch the floor. 

“Uh, huh,” she says as she listens, nodding. 

“Really?” Her eyes pop open wide, she stands up, beginning to pace around her living room. “That’s awesome!” 

She listens to the caller a for a few minutes, nodding and verbally acknowledging she understands the instructions. 

“I’ll be sure to return my list and the completed forms within the next two days,” Tobin promises, “thank you so much for this, I’m really excited to be a part of the program.” 

The call ends shortly after and Tobin just stares at her phone. 

_I did it,_ she thinks, _I really fucking did it._

She dials Christine Sinclair. 

“Yo, Sinc!” she practically shouts, unable to contain her excitement. 

“Wassup, Tobes?” 

“They chose me,” she replies quickly, her words leaving her mouth in rapid fire, “they want me for the show! I’ve got to turn in my list of equipment to bring and fill out some forms and get another physical and-” 

“Tobin!” Christine laughs, “Slow down, they picked you for the wilderness show?” 

Tobin stops to breath, “Yeah,” 

“That’s awesome!” 

“Yeah, but now I’m freaking out,” she admits, “what if I don’t choose the right stuff to bring? What if I can’t find any dry firewood? What if there’s no fish or other food there?”

“Relax,” Christine assures her, “what do you say a few of us come back to your place tonight and review the list and help you decide? Then we can talk about all of the scenarios you think you’ll be faced with.” 

“That,” Tobin nods with a sigh, “that would be incredibly helpful.” 

“We’ll order in some food, have a couple of victory beers, then hit it.” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tobin says, feeling better that she’ll be able to discuss it with her friends tonight, “I am so jacked up about this.” 

“Well, we’ve got a match tonight, so go back and find your chill,” Christine chuckles, “stop pacing.” 

Tobin lets out a laugh and sits back on her couch, “Lord, you know me,” 

“I do,” Christine chuckles, “do you know where you’re going?” 

“The production guy said Vancouver Island.” 

“Awesome!” Christine cheers, “It’s similar to Portland in weather- except it gets much colder. But you’ve found dry wood in the winter and rain here, so I don’t think it will be too big of a problem. They do get a shit ton of snow though, I’ll do some research. You relax and take a nap, don’t screw up your game day routine.” 

“I’ll try my best,” Tobin sighs, “I feel like going for a run or something.” 

“Tobin!” Christine chastises her, “You’ll do no such thing.” 

“I know,” Tobin replies, “I just feel like bursting, you know.” 

“Well, burst on your couch.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Tobin sighs. She knows she’s right. 

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” Christine says with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, Cap,” Tobin says, “maybe I’ll watch a few past episodes of the show,” 

“Good call,” 

“Alright,” Tobin says, “later.” 

They hang up and Tobin looks out her window, it’s really happening, she thinks as a smile spreads across her face. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin is in her bathroom giving it a quick once over before her teammates arrive. The high from the game is still coursing through her. It may have been one of her best performances in years. She couldn’t believe how the ball just seemed to always fall at her feet in the most perfect way. It wasn’t just the two goals she scored, it was really the three assists she bagged. She’ll always feel that midfielder’s pride in assisting goals. Creating the chances and having your teammate succeed. Even though she’s a striker now, she just can’t shake that feeling. 

She hears a knock at the door and she leaves the bathroom, satisfied it’s presentable and heads to open the door. “I got it,” she calls to Alex, who is in her room, changing out of her post match outfit. 

“Hey!” She greets Sinc and Lindsey who are both carrying bags from somewhere. Lindsey shoves the bags she has into Tobin’s hands, “I’ve got to pee,” she says hurriedly and heads down the hall. 

Tobin smiles at Sinc, tilting her head to let the woman pass her and she closes the door with her foot. She follows Sinc to the kitchen, setting the bags down next to the ones the Canadian was carrying. 

“What’s this?” she questions, sniffing the air. 

“Mexican,” Sinc informs her, “Hayley went home, she was pretty tired,”

Tobin nods, Raso had just come back from a devastating back injury that had kept her out most of the season. Tonight was the first time she had seen any match minutes. 

“Ah,” Tobin nods, opening one of the bags, “yeah, I bet she is,” she says, “I’m so happy she’s back though,” 

Alex enters the kitchen, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Mexican?” 

The two nod at her. 

“Yeah,” Sinc agrees, moving to one of the kitchen cabinets and pulling out a handful of plates, “I love her energy.” 

“Speaking of energy,” Lindsey says as she enters the kitchen area, taking the plates from Sinc’s hands, “you were sure full of it tonight,” she says to Tobin. 

Tobin just smiles and shrugs at them, “The ball just kept coming at me,” 

“And in the back of the net,” Sinc gives her a high five, “you were on fire.” 

“Tobs, you were on another level,” Alex smiles at her, “it was amazing to watch.” 

“Thanks, Al,” Tobin smiles, nodding slightly. Alex always encouraged her to play her game, never to change how she handled the ball. 

“I love those times when everything just falls into place,” Lindsey says, her eyes shining, “it’s like you can do no wrong,” 

The others nod at her, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. 

“Too bad we couldn’t get you that hat trick, though,” Sinc says regretfully. 

“We got the win and home field for the playoffs,” Tobin states, “I don’t need to bag a hat trick, the team needed the win.” 

“So noble,” Lindsey teases, elbowing Tobin. 

Just as Tobin is about to reply, there’s another knock at the door. She sticks out her tongue and elbows Horan as she moves to get the door. 

Ana, Andressinha, Midge Purce and Meghan Klingenberg enter her condo, Tobin trailing behind as they all head to stand around the island in the kitchen, setting a couple of six packs of beer on it and then receiving the plates Lindsey hands them. 

Plates and beers in hand, they all settle in the living room, sitting on the couch and floor, talking about the match, sharing their thoughts on how they played and how excited they are for the playoffs. After they finish chowing down and the dirty plates are in the dish washer, they get another round of beers and discuss Tobin’s exciting news. 

Tobin retrieves her laptop and reads them the email the production team sent her. 

Then she hands them the list of equipment. Christine takes the laptop from Tobin, finding the website she had seen earlier about Vancouver Island information.

“So, your partner is a pro and they will be hiking in from somewhere else and meet up with you,” Lindsey repeats. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods. 

“And you don’t know who it is?” Ana asks, looking at her with concern. 

“No idea,” Tobin nods, “but I had to fill out a personality test and provide my likes and hobbies so I would think they want to either find someone compatible or my complete opposite. Oh, and they said it would be a woman.” 

“I’d bank on complete opposite,” Kling predicts with authority, “makes for better TV.” 

Tobin frowns, “I didn’t think of that,” she says quietly. 

“Ah,” Andressinha throws her hands up, “Tobin, you get along with everyone,” she says forcefully, “you will be fine.” 

“She’s right,” Lindsey points her bottle at Tobin, “doesn’t matter. Don’t dwell on it, it’s not in your control.” 

“I mean, I could be wrong,” Kling admits, a little embarrassed for bringing it up. 

“Hey,” Alex elbows Tobin, they’re sitting beside each other on the couch, “don’t worry about it.” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, you’re right.” She knows she can get along with just about anyone. 

“Now, let’s talk about the weather.” Sinc announces. 

They discuss the climate and what Tobin could expect and face on her trip for the next half hour. Then they move on to the gear selection. 

“Your partner gets to choose ten more items after you do?” Kling asks. 

Tobin looks down at the paper, “No,” she shakes her head, “my partner gets to choose five items.” 

“Alright,” Lindsey nods, “let’s talk about what you need to create your shelter, get food and find a water source.” 

An hour later, Tobin feels good about her choices for gear. The five items her partner would choose wouldn’t be absolutely necessary. 

“If the fish are running, you definitely should smoke them,” Midge nods, “save them for winter months.” 

“How would I store them?” Tobin questions, “There’s bears and cougars there.” 

“Hang a bag from a tree branch, high.” Andressinha offers, “Or bury them.” 

Tobin makes a note in her notebook, adding to the other suggestions she’s written down. “How deep?” 

“If you get a bear bag or cannister, only a couple of feet. Maybe put a rock beneath it and tie it down in the hole.” Lindsey states. 

“You get a two pack of tarps, so use one for the smoker,” Sinc says, “and make sure to keep it away from your camp.” 

Tobin nods, writing again. 

“Eat as much as you can when you’re working hard, keep those calories coming in,” Ana adds, “And be sure not to set up near any trails, make your own.” 

“Yeah, stay away from the bear trails,” Kling advises, “and don’t puke on camera or eat anything gross. I don’t want to see that shit.” 

“Oh!” Midge exclaims, “You should make a drying rack above your fire for your wood,” 

All of them are nodding and Tobin writes it down, “Make sure you bring the max amount of cording you can,” Kling suggests. 

“The best thing is you won’t be alone,” Sinc says, “that will help will the mental aspect.” 

“Hey, what charity are you choosing?” Lindsey asks, leaning forward. 

Alex isn’t one for survival camping, they’ve had her come out with a few times and, while she enjoys camping, she’s not one for relying on finding her own food. She’s been mostly silent while the others make their suggestions. 

“Well, I can pick two for this,” Tobin says and takes a sip of her beer, “so I was thinking of one that’s national and one local.” 

“Good idea,” Sinc nods, taking a drink as well. 

“There’s so many good ones out there,” Kling says, “what ones are you thinking?” 

“I was thinking maybe Operation Pitch Invasion for around here and To Write Love On Her Arms nationally.” Tobin replies, “What do you guys think?” 

“Nice,” Alex says warmly, “nice mix.” 

The others agree. 

“I think it’s time to head out,” Kling announces, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow for recovery.” Ana, Midge and Andressinha also decide it’s time to go. 

Christine is the last to leave, lingering in the kitchen after Linsey had departed.

Tobin walks back to kitchen, raising her eyebrows expectantly at her. 

“You got everything cleared with Mark and Jill?” Christine asks, looking at her intently. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “they were both super cool about everything. Jill realized the good media coverage during the Victory Tour matches I miss and Mark likes the charity aspect and both know I’ll be back in good shape.” 

“Good,” Sinc says, “I’m glad,” 

“Me too,” Tobin agrees, “I was a little nervous, this is kind of a weird thing to do.” 

“Not weird,” Sinc smiles at her, “it’s pretty fucking awesome and I know you’ll rock it.” 

“Thanks, dude,” Tobin replies gratefully. She appreciates her support.

Christine steps towards her and gives her a hug, “You were amazing tonight,” she says, “made me wish you were Canadian,” 

Tobin barks out a laugh as they step apart, “Funny,” she chuckles, “every time I step on the pitch here, I wish you were American.” 

Sinc claps her on the back, “Well, at least we can kick ass here together, eh?” she gives her a crooked smile. 

“Absolutely.” Tobin nods. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, “I’m really excited for you.” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says, following her towards the door, “it’s going to be amazing.”

She walks back in the living room seeing Alex on the couch looking thoughtful. 

“Your goal tonight was a beast,” Tobin says as she sits down next to her on the couch, “that little right foot pop you did,” she shakes her head, “you nailed it.” 

Alex grins, “Well, when the ball comes in so perfectly from you,” she says, “there’s no reason not to score,” she says humbly. 

“Ah,” Tobin waves, dismissing her compliment, “that was all you.” 

Alex sighs and looks at her, “Anyway,” she says, “I’m so excited for you,” she grins at her, “this sounds dangerous though,” 

Tobin shrugs a little as she takes a sip of her water, “I mean, stuff can happen,” she admits, “but I’ll have a satellite phone to call for help and they’ll be there super quick.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Alex urges, “we’ve got the Olympics coming up next year,” 

“Al, I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my health,” Tobin says, “believe me, I know my limits.” 

“I trust you,” Alex nods, “I’m just worried about the bears.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Tobin assures her, “I’m more worried about finding food.” 

 

 

An hour later Tobin lies in her bed, thinking about her eventful day. The buzz from the match is wearing off slowly, although she can’t help but smile thinking about her play tonight. She’s excited about this new adventure, she’s amazed she was selected. 

The TV show _Alone_ is one of her favorites. A group of ten people who have survival skills are selected to see how long they can last on their own in a remote wilderness setting. They film themselves and the only outside contact comes in the form of the medical crew who perform routine check ups to assure the contestants are healthy and the technical crew that makes sure their cameras are functioning properly. They also take the tapes from the previous days’ filming and provide any technical camera gear needs. 

Contestants are given a satellite phone to use in case of medical emergencies or if they give up and disqualify themselves. Both instances result in a rapid response from the support team and they are filmed as they pack their gear and leave their isolated living area. 

The show usually lasts until there is one final contestant that hasn’t left due to medical or personal reasons. The show Tobin is participating in will last a maximum of two months, mostly because the celebrity contestants have limited survival skills compared to the pros. Also, there’s the matter of availability for those contestants, most can’t give up a year. This particular series will have only five celebrities and five pros. They will begin on the first day of November. It would be the most unorthodox way Tobin has ever spent her off season, but she feels this could be one of the most rewarding ones as well. 

Missing the final matches of the year with the National Team would be different, but she’s okay with it. She’s played a lot this year, they’ve traveled all over the country celebrating the World Cup win, she’ll be there for Cheney’s final match in October and that’s all that matters to her. She knows Abby is retiring as well, but she isn’t as close with her and with how Abby has been acting lately, she’s not even sure if the woman will notice she’s not there. 

It is pretty common knowledge with the team that Abby has a problem with drinking and maybe even pills. She watches her pop the capsules all the time, she’s seen how many glasses of wine the woman has with dinner, she has for going on a couple of years now. It’s getting out of hand and she was truly worried for her. She convinced Alex, Christie Rampone, Pinoe and HAO to join her one night in August and they held an intervention with Abby. They each spoke of their concerns to her, offering love and support, pleading with her to accept help. 

It wasn’t pleasant at all. Abby was in fierce denial, angrily confronting each of them with hateful speech about their playing abilities and personal life. She didn’t hold back, but neither did they. When things got heated, they ended it by having to separate Abby from Megan before it could come to blows. 

The same group went to Dawn and Jill the very next morning, stating their concerns and sharing their experience. After swearing their complete confidence to the two women, Jill and Dawn told them how they’d been aware of the issue for a while and had been working with the medical staff and therapists in an effort to get Abby the assistance they knew she needed. Being very aware of her popularity and fame, they had to handle it as quietly as possible but everything was documented. 

The problem was Abby wasn’t getting any medications from the team staff. She was using her personal doctors and that was a major issue. The drinking, they had been fining her consistently for over a year, not allowing her access to any team vehicles due to the possibility of drunk driving. Abby would simply rent vehicles and pay the fines. 

They admitted they felt helpless and before the World Cup had considered leaking a rumor that she had a problem. Neither liked the idea, nor did the legal department. They followed the proper protocol and documented everything. 

The last meeting Jill and Dawn had with Abby they told her she could either retire or she would be dismissed from the team and they would let the cards fall. Reality struck Abby when Jill informed her that her last match would be in New Orleans in November. 

After that night, Abby was cold to her, Alex, HAO, Christie and Pinoe off the field and most practices, but during the matches after the World Cup, she was their teammate, celebrating goals with hugs and high fives, as if there was never an issue. When cameras were around, she was the enthusiastic, funny, Abby. In private, she could be a mean drunk. 

So, Tobin has no issue not being there, even with the history and achievements Abby has, she doesn’t mind at all. She prays for her often, wishing and wondering if there’s anything she further she could do, but she knows it’s out of her hands. Abby has to wake up and want the help. 

Her mind turns to other, more pressing thoughts, as she shifts in bed to get comfortable. How do I feel about living with a stranger, she wonders, shrugging herself further under the covers. I guess, okay, she nods to herself, I like meeting new people and anyone doing something like this has to be pretty cool. I wonder how long I’ll be able to last out there. Will I be able to find enough food? Can I make a shelter that will withstand all of the rain and snow that will come? How confident am I in knowing what types of plants are safe to eat? I hope I don’t have to eat any mice or bugs. Would I tap out if it came to that? Five hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money to sacrifice over a mouse or a slug. Would I do it? 

She sighs and rolls over on her side, tiredness overcoming her. I guess I’ll find out, she thinks as she sighs once more and drifts off to sleep. 

 

XXXX

 

 

September 26, 2015 

 

“We fucking did it!” Allie screams into her face, smashing Tobin against her. “Harry, we won!” 

Alex takes Tobin in her arms, swinging her around with such force, Tobin’s feet leave the ground. “You were amazing!” she says breathlessly, grinning wildly at her. 

“We won, Al!” Tobin yells, “We did it!” 

The Portland Thorns are celebrating their victory over the Western New York Flash. Tobin didn’t like that part of herself that was happy to see the disappointment on Abby’s face after their loss. When Tobin approached her for the handshake, Abby muttered to her to fuck off and Tobin laughed. That earned her a glare from the older striker and Tobin just smirked, told her to enjoy her retirement and walked away. She wasn’t proud of it, she didn’t like it, but what can you do. Abby pushed, elbowed and bullied her throughout the match with her fury only growing as Tobin danced around her and repeatedly nutmegged her. 

The team gathered in the locker room, beer and champagne spraying everything and everyone. Happily they celebrated, hugging and thanking each other for an amazing season. After the major celebration was completed and they removed the plastic lining the locker room walls, the team slowly started to get showered up and changed into street clothes.   
Before they left for the bus, Sinc shouts for everyone’s attention.

“Listen!” she yells, turning to scan the room, “Tobin Heath! Get your ass up here!” 

Chants of her name start as Tobin walks up to stand next to her, wearing unbuttoned jeans, a sports bra and bare feet. 

“What?” she asks, her eyes shifting around her teammates suspiciously. 

“Tobin,” Christine begins, “before the end of the season craziness takes over, before we are scattered all over the globe, and before you leave for the great outdoors, we want to wish you good luck and safe journey.” 

“Aw, guys,” Tobin says, completely not expecting this. 

Lindsey and Andressinha step forward, “Tobin,” Lindsey begins, “I’m terrified for you and so incredibly proud and excited for you. We all chipped in and got you something, something that every time you use it, maybe you’ll think of something silly one of us has done and maybe you won’t feel so alone out there in the woods.” She hands over a long box wrapped in plain brown paper. 

Tobin takes it in her hands, it’s not too heavy and she has no idea what it could be. 

“That better not be a vibrator!” Kling yells out and the locker room erupts in laughter. 

Tobin turns beet red, sending a glare towards Lindsey, “Horan…” 

“It’s not!” Lindsey pleads, “Just open it.” 

Tobin unwraps the box, sees the label on the black lid and her heart rate increases. She lifts the lid off to reveal a beautiful knife with a stainless steel blade and black checkerboard grip. 

“Guys,” she whispers, lifting the knife from the box and setting the box down on a chair. She marvels at it, it feels so good in her hand. 

“Your camp knife was starting to rust at the hilt,” Christine explains, “we couldn’t let you go out there with something like that.” 

Tobin looks up and makes eye contact with her teammates, “Thank you so much,” she says, “this is so rad, it’s perfect,” 

“Just come back to us in one piece,” Allie says, wiping away a tear, “and have an amazing time.” 

Tobin nods, “I will,” she says with emotion in her voice, “thank you guys, this means so much to me.” She knows how expensive this knife is, she feels so humbled by their generosity. 

“Kick some ass out there, Tobin,” Emily Sonnett cheers, “we’ll all be watching.” 

Tobin smiles, “I’ll do my best.” 

“You always do,” AD says, “go kill it.” 

“Just, no bug eating, okay?” Kling pleads. 

“Can’t make any promises on that,” Tobin chuckles. 

“Guys, we should get dressed and get out of here,” Allie suggests, “we have a party waiting for us back at the hotel!” 

A cheer goes up and everyone gets back to packing their lockers and finishing getting dressed. Tobin sits in her chair in front of her locker, still looking at the knife. Emily elbows her, “We were at the store for two hours choosing this one.” She explains, “It’s from a Swedish outdoor company and has been rated the best knife in all sorts of magazines. Ana approved, she liked this one the best.” 

“It’s wonderful,” Tobin murmurs, gripping the knife and then slowly putting it in the sheath. She looks at Emily, “I really appreciate it.” 

Emily gives her a wink and begins to throw her clothes in her bag. 

 

 

XXXX

 

October 10, 2015

 

“I’ve been so blessed to play with you,” Tobin sobs in Lauren’s arms, her back heaving against her and Amy Rodriguez. The New Kids. It’s Lauren’s last match as well as Tobin’s before she leaves for her TV show. 

The three are huddled on the sidelines before the warmup of the match, tightly holding onto each other. They can’t hear the crowd noise, so many people cheering for them as they prepare to do one last jump on the pitch. It’s just the three of them. 

“It’s been a ride and I’ve loved every minute with the two of you,” Lauren says, her voice uneven as she tries to hold back from crying as hard as Tobin. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Chen,” Amy says, her voice husky and cracking from emotion. 

“I’m only a phone call away,” Lauren assures both of them, “it’ll be nice to eat some ice cream while watching the two of you sweat your asses off,” 

That gets them laughing a little, “C’mon,” Lauren says, squeezing her arms around Tobin and Amy, “let’s do this,” 

“I don’t wanna,” Tobin says with a sniffle, unmoving, “if we just stay here, it won’t happen,” 

Lauren pinches the back of Tobin’s arm, hard. “Pull yourself together, Heath!” she mimics Abby’s voice, using the phrase Abby has been enjoying spitting out at them lately when she feels they haven’t given her enough balls to score with. 

“She’s such a bitch,” Amy mutters with a chuckle, “I’m only passing to Alex today,” 

They stand slightly apart, wiping their eyes and taking a few deep breaths. 

“Let’s make this one a match to remember, alright girls?” Lauren asks, opening her arms for them to links with hers. 

Tobin links in, nodding, “I’ll miss you,” she says, “you’re the best middy I’ve ever played with,” 

“Shut up,” Lauren smiles, “we play with Boxxy,” she elbows Amy, “she gets so mushy,” 

Amy shakes her head, leaning forward to stick her tongue out at Tobin. 

Lauren jerks both of their arms, “Let’s do this.” She says, “One, two, three!” They jump for the last time. 

 

The match is a blur to Tobin, she vaguely remembers crying once again in the locker room, holding onto to Lauren as she dragged her to the bus. Alex held her on the ride back to the hotel, letting her sniffle and be emotional and mourn the privilege of playing with Lauren for one last time. Tobin had promised Lauren she would go out with her and the group tonight and not be a drag, so she was trying to pull herself together. 

Lauren was her rock, her person. The one who just got her. Alex and Allie were fast becoming her people too, but Lauren was there at the beginning of her National Team career, Amy too. That time when all three were so young and nervous, scared they might fail at the opportunity of a lifetime. They grew into professionals together, they cemented their faith in God together, they would be lifelong friends. But playing together, sharing that joy, the loss of that was something Tobin mourned and grieved over. 

The three of them shared a hotel room for one last time on their last trip. They stayed up late into the night, retelling stories with others in their room, taking bets on when Cheney would get pregnant. They talked about Tobin’s adventure. Alex, Kelley, HAO, Allie, Lauren and Amy were mesmerized by Tobin’s description of what she thought she would face in the woods. 

When they all had to depart the next afternoon, Tobin felt better about the whole thing, she understood and supported Lauren’s reasons for leaving but wished things were different. She knew Lauren and Jrue wanted to start a family, heck, Lauren told her two years ago she could hear her biological clock ticking when Amy got pregnant. She knew it was a matter of time Lauren would walk away. Her head knows it’s for all the right reasons, her heart, well, her heart will just miss her.


	2. Acceptance- Christen's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we meet Christen and learn a bit how about her. In this chapter, Christen learns she's accepted onto the TV show, but things in her life aren't exactly running as smooth as she would like.

September 19, 2015

 

“Alright,” Christen calls out, “thank you for coming, if you have any questions on your basket, I’ll be over here for a few minutes.” Christen was guest teaching at the local park district, presenting an adult class for learning to weave baskets from natural tall grasses. 

She enjoys showing people the method to create a simple basket, whether they were using it for a survival situation or just for fun and decoration. She genuinely likes sharing the different ways to attach handles or leave a basket in it’s own simple elegance. 

The noise of chairs scraping against the floor fills the room as people of all ages gather their belongings and make their way for the exit. Christen is at the main table, gathering the long grass shoots into a pile in hopes of getting them into the nearby trash bag she brought. She’d use the grass for her next class, it’s nice and dry and she’ll only have to moisten them to work when she shows another group how to make baskets. 

“Excuse me, miss,” a handsome man around her age approaches, he’s got the typical Portland hipster thing going on, the beanie, the scruffy beard, the demin jacket full of buttons on the lapels, the whole nine yards. 

“Yes?” Christen questions, giving him a smile. 

“I was wondering,” he flashes a brilliant smile at her, “would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me?” he shrugs and shifts his weight, “You’re super cool and I’d like to get to know you better.” 

“That’s flattering,” Christen smiles, “thank you. I’m seeing someone right now,” she says, glancing back down at her pile of grass and back up to him, “and I’m meeting her for lunch.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” he says, “Oh,” realizing the pronouns Christen used. He winks at her, “Got it,” he smiles, “but hey, I do think you are super cool, so if you ever want to hang out, I go to a lot of the Portland Adventurers Club meetings, so,” he shrugs. 

Christen gives him a bright smile, “Maybe,” she says, “I’ve got to boogie now,” reaching over to gather more grass into her large construction grade garbage bag. 

“Let me give you a hand,” he insists, “I’m Matt, by the way,” he extends his hand to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, Matt,” Christen shakes his hand, “thanks for coming this morning.” 

“Yeah, it was cool,” he grins, holding up his basket, “next time I go camping, I’m totally making one.” 

“Alright,” Christen grins, “its’ a neat skill to have out in the bush,” she adds. 

“Totally,” he agrees, “hey, did you speak about wild edibles at Rewild Portland a few months back?” 

Christen nods, pleased he remembered.

“That was pretty cool,” Matt nods, “I actually ended up taking a botany class at PCC,” 

“Really?” Christen straightens up, surprised. 

“Yeah,” he nods, “I’m taking some classes there for my associates, so I thought why not?” 

“Well, good for you,” Christen smiles, “how did you like it?” 

“I did,” he bobs his head, “wish they talked more about wild edibles, but it was pretty cool,” 

The two chat easily as they clean up, Matt being friendly and non-threatening, making Christen relax. Once she’s ready to go, Matt takes his leave, issuing a casual see you later to Christen and is off. He was nice, Christen thinks as she gathers her backpack and the bag of grass, I appreciate him backing off and being cool. 

As she walks through the parking lot to her car, she presses the key fob to open the trunk, setting the bag in it and closing it. She gets in her car, setting her pack on the passenger seat and retrieving her phone to check for any messages. 

There’s two texts from Monica and three phone calls. Christen frowns, hoping nothing is wrong, she presses the message and listens.

She looks at her phone after listening to Monica’s messages. 

Then she looks at her texts and sighs. 

**Christen: Hey Mon, just got in the car, had to clean up after class. See you at one for lunch.**

**Monica: Christen! Thank God! I thought you were mad at me or ditching me or something. I’ll see you at Peron’s, love you!**

_Good Lord, it’s only ten minutes after class got out, she thinks, I don’t know why she calls and texts during my classes, I told her I don’t look at my phone when I’m teaching._

She looks at her phone once more, noting the time stamps, “Jesus,” she mumbles, seeing Monica texted at 12:03 and 12:07 and then called at 12:09, in additional to calling twice during class. 

 

Monica would call her during the week while Christen was teaching at the university, sometimes making unexpected visits while she was lecturing, sneaking in the back of the room, claiming she found it sexy to watch her. 

Christen would have to gently fight off her advances when she would corner her in her office during her office hours, Christen sternly reminding her that this was her place of employment, not where Monica could come and get her kicks and live out some sexual fantasy. 

She was growing aggravated with their relationship. She senses something has shifted, it’s become unbalanced in that Monica is pursuing her more diligently, but in ways Christen finds uncomfortable. But then she can be so sweet and caring and the sex was really good too. 

Christen sighs, keying the ignition and looking over her shoulder as she pulls out of the space, directing her vehicle to her house, so she can let the dogs out before going to lunch. 

 

She’s in the kitchen, watching the dogs romp around the yard from the door when her phone rings. She answers it hesitantly, unsure of the number. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Christen?” a female voice asks. 

“Yes, this is she,” Christen replies, opening the door as the dogs approach. She closes it after they pass through, both dogs going to the water dish, noisily drinking. 

She locks the door and looks at her watch, she’s got about ten more minutes before she should leave for lunch. 

“This is Lisa with Leftfield Pictures,” she replies, “I’m so happy to share that you’ve been chosen for the Alone Celebrity season.” 

“Really?” Christen asks, completely in shock. Honestly, she thought the timeline expired last week of when she would have gotten the call. 

“Yes,” Lisa replies, “are you still available for the time period of the show?” 

“Yes,” Christen answers, a grin appearing on her face, “yes, I am,” she’s growing excited. 

“Excellent!” Lisa says happily, “Now, I’ll be sending over an email with the release and all over the vital attachments, if you can get them back as soon as possible, that would be fantastic.” 

“Yes, absolutely!” Christen is now smiling, “Thank you for choosing me, I’m very excited to be apart of the show!” 

“I’ll be in touch after I receive your paperwork,” Lisa says, “please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions.” 

“Of course, thank you,” Christen replies, still smiling.

“Great, I’ll talk to you soon,” Lisa says.

“Awesome,” Christen can’t stop smiling. 

“Bye,” 

“Bye,” Christen replies and disconnects the call. It’s really happening, she made the cut and is going to be on the show. 

“Yaaaaaay!” Christen screeches in the middle of her kitchen, scaring the dogs as she dances around. “I did it! I did it!” she shouts, doing a weird little jig. 

“Girls, Mommy is going to be on TV!” she exclaims to the dogs who are both looking at her with startled expression. “I’ll be gone for awhile, but Auntie Jen will take great care of you and you’ll have a lot of fun with Uncle Sam,” she giggles at her word choice. 

She looks at her watch, “Oh, I have to leave.” She grabs her jacket, keys and purse, giving a kiss on the nose of each of the dogs and leaving her house. 

She’s in the car on her drive to meet Monica, when she calls her Mom. 

“Mom!” she says excitedly when her Mother picks up, “You’ll never believe what just happened!” 

“Well, it’s a Saturday, did you get better seats for the Thorns match?” she questions. 

“No!” Christen giggles, “Better!” 

“Hmm,” her Mom contemplates, “the TV show thing?” 

“Yes!” Christen shouts excitedly, “They called me, I’m going to be on it!” 

“Oh sweetie!” her Mom gushes, “Cody!” she calls for her husband, “Come here!” 

Christen can hear her Dad grumbling as he approaches her Mom. “Cody,” Stacey excitedly says, “Christen is going to be on that TV show!” 

“Honey, really?” he questions, Christen can hear his smile. 

“Yeah Dad,” she replies, “they just called a few minutes ago.” 

“That’s fantastic!” He says, “You’ve got it cleared with school? Taking the time off?” 

“All set,” Christen replies, “just have to call Jen and tell her I made it.” 

“Oh honey,” her Mom interjects, “are you sure you’ll be safe?” 

“Yeah Mom,” Christen assures her, “they give us a satellite phone and safety gear, like bear spray and stuff. I’ll be fine.” 

They talk about her adventure as she guides her car to the restaurant, happy they are so excited for her. When she gets off the phone with them, Christen can’t stop smiling as she enters the restaurant, so happy that she made it through all of the preliminary rounds for the survivalists who signed up for the opportunity to be on the show. 

“You look happy!” Monica greets her, rising from her chair and taking her in her arms. She kisses Christen rather forcefully, a hand gripping Christen’s ass. Christen turns her face to shy away, her hand removing Monica’s from her backside. 

“Come on Mon,” she says as she takes her seat, “not here,”

“Sorry,” Monica shrugs, sitting down, “you look hot.” She pulls her napkin out and places it over her lap, “How was class?” 

“Class was fine,” Christen answers, “although I’ve told you so many times, I don’t look at my phone while I’m teaching.” Christen shakes her head, “Why do you insist on calling and texting me?” she pulls her napkin onto her lap, “An emergency? I get it, but this morning, Mon, you’re making me feel like you’re checking up on me, like you don’t trust me or something.” 

“I was bored and I missed you,” Monica says plainly, “is it so bad I think about you all the time?” she gives her a seductive smile. 

“No, it’s not,” Christen concedes, “but I don’t blow up your phone when you’re at work, you know?” 

“I’m sorry,” Monica drops her head, looking down at her place setting. 

“Hey,” Christen says gently, waiting for Monica to look up at her, “just, take it down a notch, alright?”

Monica smiles, “Okay,” she agrees, “I’ll do my best.” 

Christen smiles back and flips open her menu, “Now, what were you thinking of getting? I’m starving,” she says, scanning her menu. 

 

Christen waits until they’re walking out of the restaurant, leaning up against Monica’s car to tell her the news. 

“You remember how I told you I applied to be on that survival show?” she asks, nudging Monica’s shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Monica nods. 

“I got the call,” Christen smiles widely, “they picked me,” 

Monica’s face falls, “You’re leaving me?” 

Christen’s shoulders slump, “No, I’m not leaving you,” she says, the joy of sharing this with her deflating, how Monica needs to turn it all back her leaving Christen frustrated. This has been happening more often than she likes. She understands if Monica feels insecure, but it’s getting ridiculous. 

“I’ll be gone for three months,” Christen replies flatly, the smile erased from her face. 

“But,” Monica spreads her arms wide, “what will I do?” 

“You have a life without me Monica,” Christen says sarcastically, “go out with your friends, visit your family, do whatever you want.” 

“But you’ll be gone,” Monica says, her lip beginning to quiver, “what if something happens? What if I need you?” 

“Monica,” Christen sighs, “we talked about this months ago, in depth, remember?” She glares at her, “You had no problems with me applying for this, no problems with me being gone. ‘Go for it!’ you said. ‘I support you, whatever you want to do,’ remember? Why is this a problem now?” Her hands on are her hips, staring at her. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually be chosen,” Monica honestly states, “it was like a one in a million chance.” 

“Ugh!” Christen looks up at the sky, counting to ten, then lowers her head to look at her. “I happened to be very well qualified for this,” she says quietly, “if you can’t handle this, maybe we shouldn’t be together. Why don’t you think about that for a couple of days,” she says. 

She walks over to her car, “I’ll talk to you later,” she calls out over her shoulder, quickly entering her vehicle, pissed at how Monica is trying to manipulate her. 

Angrily she starts her car and leaves the parking lot. She bangs on the steering wheel a couple of times in frustration. She doesn’t understand how Monica’s changed so much in such a short time. 

 

“Jen, she’s just acting so differently,” Christen laments, on the phone with her closest friend who happens to be her department chair at University of Portland, “I don’t get it.” 

“Well,” Jen replies slowly, “maybe she has something going on that she hasn’t shared with you yet,” she offers, “maybe something is bothering her?” 

“I don’t know,” Christen sighs, “she practically gives me a minute by minute recap of her day when I ask,” she says, “if something was bothering her, I think I would know by now.” 

“Maybe you need to just call her out on it,” Jen suggests, “tell her the things you see that have changed.” 

“It’s like she’s suspicious,” Christen continues, “she checks on me all the time,” 

“Hm,” Jen comments. 

“What?” Christen asks. 

“Chris,” Jen says softly, “that doesn’t sound very healthy.” 

“Yeah,” Christen agrees, she doesn’t like this behavior, but Monica is usually so sweet. 

“I’ll you see you at the tailgate?” Jen asks, changing the subject. 

“For sure,” Christen smiles, the Portland Thorns have a match tonight. They’re trying to win the Shield for the league over Seattle tonight and a win would ensure them a home playoff match. Her and her friends all have season tickets, enjoying the team and the atmosphere. They have such a great time at the matches. 

 

 

September 26, 2015 

 

 

“They did it!” Christen screams, hugging Jen, both of them jumping around and then high fiving those around them. 

The Portland Thorns have won the Championship here at Providence Park against the New York Flash. Christen’s ears are ringing it’s so loud, there’s red smoke drifting over to their seats, it was an awesome match. 

Their group chants along with everyone else in their section, singing loudly for the players. In all of the sporting events Christen has ever been to, watching soccer captivated her. She liked hockey, but sometimes it moved to fast, with soccer, there was a grace and elegance as the play would unfold. Also, the players seem so much more genuine and appreciative of their fans. 

While Christen loves sports, she wasn’t blessed with an ounce of athletic ability besides running. She ran track in high school and enjoyed it immensely. Her age difference, being two years younger posed some issues, and she wasn’t any type of running prodigy, but she loved to run. 

The group stays for the trophy presentation, cheering wildly as they get their medals. Christen almost has to cover her ears from the thundering noise when the team lifts the trophy on the stage. They stay while the Thorns walk around the entire stadium to thank the fans and then they head out. 

 

“Abby is done,” Sam states confidently, he’s Jen’s husband, “she couldn’t play ninety if her life depended on it.” They’re huddled around a table at a bar near the stadium, munching on appetizers. 

“Yeah,” Mel agrees, her eyes dancing, “you see how sloppy she was getting? Fouling Heath so much, just because she couldn’t hang with her. I swear she should’ve gotten a yellow when she elbowed Tobin in the head,” she adds. Mel is Melissa Tancredi, formerly of the Canadian National Team. She played in the NWSL for a couple of years before leaving to finish her degree and now she resides in Portland, working as a sports performance professor at the university. 

“Well, the National Team has a few more friendlies for their victory tour,” Christen states, “I wonder how many she’ll play in.”

“I don’t think she makes the Olympic squad,” Sam predicts. 

“I heard that wasn’t an option,” Mel informs them, “she’s officially retiring at one of the Victory Tour matches.” 

“So’s Lauren Holiday,” Christen frowns, “that’s a damn shame, I love watching her play.” 

“I think I still have bruises from Lauren,” Mel chuckles, “she is beast.” 

“I respect Abby’s accomplishments,” Jen says mildly, “I just wish her personality was a bit less selfish.” 

“Nah,” Christen grins, “I’m hoping for Sinclair to take the scoring title from her,” 

“I wonder if it’s going to be Carli or Alex to get to close to Mia’s number,” Jen wonders aloud. 

“I wish we could see a USA vs. Canada match here or in Seattle.” Sam adds, “I love seeing the Canucks in the league, but it would be awesome to see their national team play.” 

The others nod, Mel casting a sly grin, “I heard rumors of a match in Vancouver,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

“That would be awesome!” Christen cheers, “Like when we went for the World Cup,” 

“I’ll let you guys know when it’s happening,” Mel nods, “depending on the date, maybe we can road trip.” 

The group agrees. 

“Hey,” Jen leans over, “what do you say we get out of here and get some tacos?” 

It only takes five minutes for them to close out their tab, grab their jackets and head out into the night. As they walk to where the food trucks are parked, Jen elbows Christen, “How’s it going with Monica?” she asks her quietly.

Christen twists her mouth, raising a hand flat out in front of her, wiggling it back and forth, “Eh,” she says, “it’s not that great,” 

“Sorry,” Jen slings her arm around her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

“We’ll see,” Christen shrugs, “she says she’ll do better but I’m not believing it until I see it.” 

Jen just squeezes her again. 

“I’m beginning to think our time together may have run it’s course,” Christen says reluctantly. 

“If it is, it is,” Jen says, “it’s no fun to go through,” she says, “but Chris, if it’s unhealthy, you have to do it.” 

“I know,” Christen agrees, “I’m just not looking forward to it,” 

 

 

October 10, 2015 

 

“No,” Christen shakes her head, “no, I don’t want you to move in,” she's rubbing her temples with her fingers, trying to fight the growing headache. They've been arguing for over an hour. 

“But I want to show you my commitment,” Monica argues, “this is commitment!” 

“Commitment is when we both agree to something like this,” Christen states firmly, “this is you pushing me. I don’t want you to live in my house. You don’t like my dogs, you don’t like when I go out to the woods, you still keep hounding me when I’m at work or out with my friends.”

“When you love someone, you check on them!” Monica roars at her, swiftly standing up and approaching her. Both dogs scramble to Christen’s side, Khaleesi issuing a soft growl.

“Your dog hates me!” she screeches, looking down at the dog. 

“No,” Christen states calmly, “my dog believes you are threatening me.” 

Monica’s face grows tight, her eyes blazing at Christen. “I thought you loved me,” she says hastily, “I thought this is what you wanted.” 

“No, Monica,” Christen says sadly, wiping at her eyes, “it’s not.” 

“Well what do you want?” she shouts at her. Morena now issues a growl.

“I want you to leave.” Christen states firmly. “I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“You’re breaking up with me?” Monica falters, her tears still streaming down her face. 

“Yes,” Christen says quietly, “I am,” 

“But,” Monica looks at her bewildered, “I thought you loved me,” 

Christen shakes her head, “I never said that to you,” she says slowly with certainty. “We had some good times, Mon, but recently, this checking up on me,” she shakes her head, “you’re suffocating me. You make me feel that you don’t trust me. That you have this urgent need to know exactly where I am and who I’m with and what I’m doing all the time. It’s not healthy.” 

“I can change!” Monica pleads, “I can!” 

Christen shakes her head again, “Monica, it’s over,” she says as gently as she can, “we’ve talked and talked about this, I’ve given you plenty of chances,” 

Monica lowers her head, her shoulders slumping, she leans against the wall of the hallway, kicking one foot back and forth slowly. 

“Okay,” she says softly, “if that’s how you want it.” She looks up at her. “You’re gonna wish you never broke up with me,” she says, glaring at her, her anger building, “you’ll look back on this and know it was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.” 

“Just go,” Christen says tiredly, pushing past her and walking down the hall, the dogs following her closely. She’s done with this, she opens the door.

Monica shoots daggers at her, walking to the door, pausing as she tenses up, raising a fist. Morena barks loudly, aggressively, taking a quick leap at her knees, Khaleesi growling ferociously. Christen grabs her collar to hold her. 

“Leave, now!” Christen hotly commands, anger rising. “Before you regret it.”  
Monica brushes past her, standing on the porch, turning to yell at her. Christen slams the door, locking it as she hears Monica scream. “You’ll be the one who regrets this!” 

Christen leans against the inside of the door, slowly sliding down to sit against it. Both dogs come to her sides, licking her face and whining and speaking to her in their own way. Christen brings her hands to her face as she cries, feeling shitty with how this all went, but knowing she did the right thing. 

Her and Monica met at an Outdoor tradeshow, Monica working for a company that sells outdoor coolers and lanterns. They hit it off, flirting with each other in the booht, Monica confidently slipping her number to Christen. She was cute, with short blondish hair, riveting blue eyes and a nice build. They met for drinks a few days later, then dinner followed and then they slept together. Monica knew how to please Christen, bringing her to orgasm multiple times. She made Christen's head spin. 

 

Over the next few months, they had a good time, seeing each other a little more and more. Two months ago, Monica became more pushy in wanting to see her. Then she started checking on her, constantly calling and texting. They would talk and Christen would ask her to cool it and Monica would for a few days, then it would start up again. 

Christen had finally had it. It had gotten toomuch for her, she reme,bered her Dad's famous line, 'Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.' She was done. It took her a couple of weeks to gain the courage, she felt shitty about doing it, but it was getting out of hand when Monica would just stop over at her house at random times. 

Today, today was the day Christen knew she had it in her. 

She cries because it does hurt, she genuinely liked the Monica she first met. She doesn't know what happened to make her change and she grieves over losing the happiness she felt when they first started dating. 

The dogs snuggle close to her, sensing her emotions, letting her release them as she sits on the floor.


	3. Tobin 's Lead Up and Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin continues to prepare for her trip, doing media, reviewing her gear and the choices she's made. 
> 
>  
> 
> The day approaches and soon Tobin is at the airport, prepared to be whisked away to her final destination: Vancouver Island.

Lead Up and Tobin’s Day 1 

 

October 20th, 2015 

Tobin flops on the couch, jostling Alex who’s bowl of popcorn nearly topples off her lap. She saves it with quick hands, glaring at Tobin. 

“Hey!” she reprimands her, “What’s with you?” 

“How do you do this all day?” Tobin whines, her head back on the couch cushion, looking at the ceiling.

“Media?” Alex questions, a hint of smile on her lips. 

“Yes,” Tobin moans, “it’s so exhausting,” 

“Well, I don’t do,” she looks at her watch, “fourteen hours of it in one day, for starters,” Alex reasons, “you, on the other hand…” 

“I know,” Tobin breathes out, “I just wanted to get it all done.” 

“And you did,” Alex grins at her, sliding her legs off the couch, “I made you a treat,” she says as she stands, “stay there.” She heads to the kitchen, Tobin can hear her opening the fridge and shuffling around, the clinking of a spoon on ceramic. 

She closes her eyes, they’re burning with her tiredness. She did numerous video spots for her TV show today, promoting it with the Thorns and then with US Soccer. She’s exhausted. It’s not like it was super physical but having to be “on” and smiling for hours was draining. 

Alex comes back and shoves a bowl with a spoon sticking out of it at Tobin, gently bumping her chest with it. Tobin opens her eyes and takes the bowl. 

“You made my Mom’s dessert?” Tobin asks with wide eyes, looking at the lime whipped dessert and then at Alex. 

“Yeah,” Alex grins, “I knew you’d be crabby when you got home,” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says gratefully, “are you having some?” 

Alex holds up her bowl, “I got this,” she says, “you enjoy, I’ll have some tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, Al,” Tobin repeats, lifting the spoon and shoving it in her mouth, moaning with pleasure from the taste. 

“I know what your day was like,” Alex nods, “I’m glad you didn’t snap.” She tosses a few pieces of popcorn in her mouth. 

“I have new respect for what you do,” Tobin says in between bites. The dessert is just a simple Jello and Cool Whip concoction, but it’s Tobin’s favorite and over the years, the two know when one another needs a taste of home. A few weeks ago, after getting back from being on the road for three weeks, Tobin made a grilled chicken dinner for her and Alex. 

She took the trouble of going down two levels in the building to the patio deck, filling a grill with charcoal while it was misting and grilling the chicken and veggies, using the marinade that Alex’s Dad always used when they grilled at their house. It was a back and forth thing the two best friends did, always sensing and knowing when one needed a pick me up. 

“This is awesome,” Tobin says, almost finishing the bowl, “I needed this.” 

“I know,” Alex bumps her shoulder, “I got your back.” 

 

 

October 28th, 2015

 

Tobin is in her room, all of her gear laid out on her bed and floor, doing her final sorting her items for the trip. She turns when she hears a knock on her door, looking to Alex standing there, giving her a sad smile. 

“I’m excited for you,” she says, “but please promise me you’ll be careful?” 

“You know I will, Al,” Tobin says, running her hand through her hair and then taking her hairband from her wrist and pulling her long mane into a ponytail. 

“I have something for you,” Alex says, entering the room and bringing forward a large plastic bag that recognizes is from the REI store. 

“Al,” she protests, “you didn’t have to get me anything,” 

“I know,” Alex nods, “but it makes me feel better knowing you’ll have this with you.” She hands the bag to her. “Open it.” She says, a true smile on her face now. 

Tobin kneels on her floor, Alex kneeling across from her, wriggling a little with excitement. The two had gone shopping for Tobin’s trip, Alex patiently listening as Tobin vetted each item, discarding some that were too expensive or not up to her approval. 

Tobin reaches in the bag, pulling out something wrapped in tissue paper, looking at Alex. 

She shrugs, “There had to be some sort of wrapping,” she grins. 

Tobin unwraps it, revealing a top of the line pair of Gor-Tex pants, they type she wanted with the reinforced knee pads and multiple pockets. She almost did buy them, but put them back on the rack, knowing they were just a little out of her budget. Plus, she knew the ones she owned would do the job, these pants would be an extravagance. 

That was one of the major differences between Alex and Tobin. Alex, of course, was pulling in major money from her endorsements, she could afford to splurge. Tobin stuck to her budget. Even with the additional prize money from the World Cup and Victory Tour games, Tobin wouldn’t spend the money frivolously on herself. She was generous to others but lived frugally for herself. She knew her time playing was limited, so the extra money was banked. She didn’t know how long her career would last, so her and her financial planner created short and long terms goals that she lived by. She was comfortable, she had money to play with, it was she just choose not to often. She had pants that would work, these would just be a luxury to her. 

“Al,” Tobin says softly, holding the pants up, “you didn’t have to.” 

“Shut, up, I did,” Alex replies with a smile, “keep going, there’s more.” 

Tobin pulls out two beautiful one hundred percent wool sweaters, three thick undershirts, two pairs of wool lined leggings and six pairs of heavy wool socks. As always, the styles and colors Alex choose was perfect, Tobin loved them all. 

“Al,” Tobin says, standing up to meet her, hugging her tightly, “thank you,” she says gratefully. 

“I just don’t want you to think about you being cold out there,” Alex says softly, “do you like them?” 

“Like them? I love them!” Tobin laughs, “You always pick the best stuff,” she says, giving her one more squeeze before releasing her. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, “I really mean it.” 

“You’re welcome,” Alex says, scanning her room, “need help packing?” 

“Sure!” Tobin agrees, “You can help me decide on some of this.” 

 

 

October 31st, 2015 

Day 1 

 

 

Tobin is slouched in her chair at the airport terminal staring at the all too familiar carpeting on the floor of PDX. Her month has been a whirlwind. She’s made short video spots promoting her appearance on the show for the network, the Thorns and National Team. She’s used her social media outlets more this month asking for donations to raise money for her causes than she has in the whole year. 

She’s had her physical for the show, completed all of her paperwork, had her agent and lawyer sign off on the contracts, everything is set. She’s done a few three day trips to the woods, practicing some skills. She’s completed the online video class the show had her take to make sure she would be proficient with the cameras. She’s called her family and friends to say goodbye and ease their worries. She feels content that she’s done all she can to prepare herself. Now, she waits. 

 

When they announce that her flight is ready to begin boarding, Tobin stands and gathers her backpack. She takes a deep breath and heads to the gate.   
Let’s do this, she thinks and a smile spreads across her face as she hands the attendant her boarding pass. 

 

XXXX 

It was a relatively short flight from Portland to Vancouver and then she hopped on a smaller plane to shuttle over the tiny airport on the island. She was bored while she waited for the next flight in the small airport, opting to just hang out at the gate, sipping in her water, looking out the window. 

Tobin was met at the Baggage Claim area by a young woman holding a small Heath sign, smiling and approaching her as Tobin strolled toward the pile of casually stacked bags against a wall. She got her large duffle bag, and Lisa, one of the producers, led her to a waiting car. 

On the drive over to the hotel, Lisa handed her an agenda, reviewing the two morning meetings she would attend and then have a lunch and prepare for departure to the island.   
Tonight, she would be on her own, there were no dinner plans for the cast. Lisa explained they didn’t want them to mix before the show started. They didn’t want anyone to get to know each other ahead of time. 

The hotel is actually a small motel and RV park, rather on the old side but it has a certain charm. She gets in her room, tossing her bag on the second queen bed and then flops down on the other one. She pulls her phone out, noting the messages and opens her texts. 

She laughs out loud at the photos Allie sent her, a series of different images of Bigfoot and her overly dramatic warnings to avoid engaging with one. Alex sends her one of her legs crossed poolside complaining that Tobin isn’t in Bermuda with her and Servando to enjoy this. Her next one wishes her good luck and exhorts her to be careful. Sinc sent her the latest weather report, encouraging her that if she’s on the coast, she’ll have great weather for a week until the rain comes. Allie also sends her a couple of pictures of her dogs, telling her they miss her already and she needs to bring them back a couple of big sticks. Lauren sends her a picture of herself, pouting and wishing Tobin was with her on her vacation in the Rockies. Amy sends a few of her kids, they’re holding up a poster wishing Aunt Tobin good luck. Kling sends a few inspirational postcards and tells her she’ll kick ass. 

There’s some from her family as well, all of them urging her to be careful and it’s fine if she stays for two weeks and then calls it off. She knows they mean well and they’re just concerned for her safety. They most likely have watched the previous episodes, so she knows they are now aware of the dangers she intentionally didn’t speak to them about. 

Tobin’s hungry and decides to try and find somewhere to eat away from the motel, so she pulls up her phone to see if there’s someplace within walking distance. She quickly finds a bar and grill nearby and decides to walk down the road a block to it. She takes a photo of the outside of the establishment, The Bucksnort Bar and Grill, and texts it out to her friends telling them she’s having her last meal here. 

She sits at the bar, it’s not crowded and she mostly looks at her phone, replying to texts and looking at the weather more closely. She orders their ribeye steak with mashed potatoes and carrots, something basic but filling. 

After she eats, she pays her bill and finishes her glass of water, opting to not drink any alcohol. She grabs her coat off the back of her chair and takes two steps and sees a beautiful woman sitting at the opposite end of the bar. 

She’s just starting to eat and is looking up at the TV behind the bar and Tobin is taken with her. Her long, straight, black hair, her darkened skin and exotic looks. She trips over her feet and stumbles a little, grabbing onto the chair to her left, making it screech as she pushes it to keep herself upright.

Tobin looks up and finds the woman looking at her, a small smile on her face. Tobin smiles shyly at her, embarrassed and not wanting to disturb her while she ate. She quickly makes her way out of the bar, clumsily kicking the door with her foot as she tries to open it, making it bang loudly, wishing she had seen the woman come in earlier and have a chance to speak with her. 

_Who are you fooling, she thinks as she slowly walks back to the motel, you’re leaving tomorrow and you don’t just hook up with chicks. She shakes her head, yeah, but she is so beautiful._

Her phone chirps and it’s Lauren texting again, asking if she survived the Bucksnort. Tobin calls her and speaks with her all the way back to the motel, while she washes up and changes into her sleep clothes and for a while as she lays in the comfy bed. 

“Tobes,” Lauren says quietly, “you’re gonna have so many people praying for you, to keep you safe, to be warm, to find food, to find joy and peace in this adventure. I hope you get so much from this amazing chance. I hope it’s everything you imagine it could be.” 

“Thanks, Chen,” Tobin says, swallowing hard, “I’m so excited about this,” she says, “I know a lot of people don’t understand why I’m doing this, but I feel so strongly this is important for me to do,” 

“I can get it,” Lauren says, “maybe not all of it, but some. The high of the World Cup, all the pressure, balancing club and country, so much travel, roster changes. New found level of being a celebrity.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, “it’s just a recharge, maybe a little extreme but a recharge.”

“I’d prefer you recharge on a beach without bears, but I do understand your need to slow down.” Lauren says, “I didn’t want to ride it any longer, I know how you’re feeling.” 

“You know, I do want to ride it, I want to ride it all the way, as far as I can go,” Tobin says quietly, “I just need this break.” 

“And you need to get away from Abby,” Lauren snorts, “she’s picked on you forever.” 

“Ah,” Tobin says, “it was hard, but I’ve let it go,” she says, “she’s got her path, I just pray she doesn’t get hurt.” 

“Well, you better get some sleep, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow,” Lauren announces.

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles, “I can’t wait.” 

“Love you,” 

“I love you, too, Laur,” Tobin replies, “and you know I want you to be happy. I’m sad that soccer isn’t a part of that any longer, but I’m so excited about what lies ahead for you.” 

“I know, hon,” Lauren says softly, “I know.” 

They end the call and Tobin sets her alarm. 

 

 

XXXX

 

November 1, 2015 

Day 2 

 

If Tobin thought she could gain an advantage of the terrain from the helicopter ride, she was sadly mistaken. The ride was short, the copter landing in a sandy area on the west side of the island. There were two large campers high up on the shore, a small city of five tents surrounding them. Two other boats were docked by the pier, lazily bobbing in the water. The group off loaded the gear and loaded themselves onto one of the sleek aluminum boats and soon the engines are roaring over the water, the craft racing towards their destination. 

Disappointed she wouldn’t see an aerial view of her location, Tobin stood on the deck, her gloved hands gripping the metal railing, her long hair blowing out from under her beanie, scanning the rapidly passing shoreline. She would call this place home for however long she could, living off the land and depending on herself and her knowledge of survival skills. 

She’s curious about her partner, her curiosity overcoming her anxiety about it. She doesn’t know who the person is, they would meet up in the next three to five days. She only knew they were a trained survivalist, a person who is an expert in just what they are doing- living on their own in the woods. 

Tobin had agreed to participate in this willingly. She was a fan of the TV show Alone, following along and watching the contestants try their best to be the longest to survive on their own. When the opportunity came up that they would have a celebrity season, she pushed her agent to get in touch with the producers and share her interest. 

She was thrilled to be included. She loved camping and testing herself in the woods back home in Portland. As a child, her family camped often, her Father showing a young Tobin basic skills that started her interest and that grew into a passion. Often, she would go camping with her teammates, learning new techniques from them. Christine Sinclair was an avid outdoorswoman, her knowledge of winter camping was impressive. Hayley Raso taught her how to set snares and capture small game. From Ana she learned how the Swiss make a fire from a single log standing on end. Lindsey was delighted to give her a taste test of teas made from different pine trees. Andressinha shared her technique of cooking over an open flame using sticks to keep the meat spread out to cook evenly. 

A bunch of them went on a long weekend trip to fish and learn how to make a smoker and smoke the fish they caught. It was impressive in just how many of her teammates were skilled in camping and fending for themselves outdoors. Tobin thought it was so cool to learn from her friends and see some of the gear from their countries. She often wondered if there was some sort of correlation between athletes and those skills. 

She was still in season when she learned she would be a possible contestant for the TV show and had to make arrangements with Mark about missing some off season training and discussing the charities she would be raising money for. Another round of phone calls to Jill, Dawn and the media team for their approval and she was set. The producers had to get Tobin special medical clearance because they typically disqualified anyone with a body fat percentage below sixteen percent, and with hers being at nine, she would need additional monitoring for her health. The National Team doctors declared they would want her out if it dropped to seven. 

Convincing her family was a little more difficult. A small smile appears on Tobin’s face as she remembers her call to her parents. 

_“Honey, you’re going to do what?” her Dad had asked._

_“I’m going to be on a TV show about surviving in the woods.” Tobin replied._

_“Oh, like a guest appearance?”_

_“No, Mom,” Tobin replied, “I’ll be out there living for up to two months.”_

_“What?” Her Mom exclaimed, “Honey, no! That sounds so dangerous!”_

_“Aw, come on, Mom,” Tobin assured her, “I’ve camped before, I know what I’m doing, they wouldn’t let me be on the show if I didn’t.”_

_From there, Tobin explained how the medical team would check on her almost every day, monitoring her health, both physical and mental. How she would be equipped with a  
radio to call in for help and also an emergency beacon she would carry with her at all times.She explained how the show worked, how she would have partner who is an expert. She shared with them how each day she would be filming herself and then the next morning the tapes would be given to the medical crew and the footage prepared for the show. _

_She told them how she was doing this to raise money for SoccerCity in Portland, trying to gather funds to install and maintain open spaces for pick up soccer all around the city. How important it was to her to give back and help lay groundwork to make soccer accessible to everyone._

_“Honey, I’m just so worried,” her Mom stated, “I don’t like the idea of you being out there on your own.”_

_“But I won’t,” Tobin insisted, “I’ll have a pro with me, it will be fine. Besides,” she said, “the National Team will be doing all sorts of updates and so will the show. You’ll see how I’m doing.”_

_“Your coaches are okay with this?” Her Dad asked._

_“Yeah, Dad,” Tobin smiled, “it took a little convincing, but I sent them the safety information, I’ll send it to you too, it’s safe. I’ll be fine.” She intentionally doesn’t mention the bears and bobcats that are on the island and the precautions she would need to take to deal with them. She doesn’t mention the chance that she won’t be able to find food to feed herself or the numerous other risks involved in her adventure._

_Her Mom sighed heavily, “Well, I know I can’t stop you,” she said, “so you just be careful and have fun.”_

_“Just don’t camp on an animal path,” her Father warned, “and boil your water,”_

_“Thanks, guys,” Tobin said, a smile on her face, “I’m super excited about this.”_

_They chat a little longer and Tobin dutifully sends her the email after they end the call._

Her conversation with her brother and sisters went in a similar fashion. Surprise, disbelief, worry, reluctant support. 

 

 

This morning’s meeting went well, the gear review and camera skills wasn’t difficult. Tobin is pretty adept with a camera so she wasn’t too worried about it. They do provide a list of tips and troubleshooting guide and that helps her confidence. 

The next meeting about safety alarmed her slightly, the reality hitting her that she'll actually be living in the true wilderness, but the production crew explained the bear spray and other items they would have to keep any brushes with wildlife to a minimum. 

A quick lunch was had, her gear packed and loaded on a helicopter and away she went. 

 

Now she stands on this fast moving boat, quickly approaching her destination and Day One of her adventure. She’s nearly shaking with excitement. 

 

XXXX

 

“That’s everything,” Lisa says as the second hard shell camera case is set on the rocky shoreline. 

“Thanks,” Tobin nods, readjusting her grip on the camera she’s holding. 

“Good luck!” Lisa smiles at her, “I’m pulling for you,” 

Tobin smiles, “Thanks, we’ll see how it goes,” 

She watches Lisa wade through the water to the boat, putting one leg up through the rope sling and hoisting herself in. “Go Thorns!” she shouts and waves to Tobin. 

Tobin flashes her a peace sign and nods with a smile. “Later,” she yells, pressing the button on her camera beginning to film. “And just like that, I’m alone,” she says, panning on the boat as it swiftly recedes in the distance and sharply turns out of view from the cove that is Tobin’s new home. 

She swells with excitement, that feeling of knowing she has the capability to make this work, the freedom she feels being out here in the woods. Away from everything she knows, depending on herself to survive. 

She switches her view and holds the monopod, filming herself. “So, first things first,” she states, “I’ve got to move these cases back so the tide doesn’t take them out to sea,” she nods, swiveling to show the two cases on the shore. She turns the camera off, opens one of the cases and retrieves the tripod. She sets it in place, mounts the camera to it and begins filming. She walks over the cases, grabbing one and lifting it up, walking towards the shore and near a sandy area. It’s past the debris line from the tide so she feels this would be okay to keep them here for now. 

She returns for the second one and places it next to the first. Then she walks back once more and gets the camera, panning the shore and the deeply forested area. “Not much of a beach,” she comments as she walks, “but there’s got to be a way in to check things out.” She turns to camera to her face and smiles, “let’s go.” 

She shuts off the camera and turns on the GoPro mounted to her chest, opting to keep her large backpack on while she searches for a place to create her camp. She pockets the camera and affixes the flexible tripod to the side of her waist belt on her pack, wanting to have both hands free while she navigates in the woods. She looks up to orient herself to the sun, judging she’ll be heading east. 

“I think I may have found my water source,” Tobin comments, facing the waterfall that creates a small stream in front of her, “I’ll check around this area to see if the bush opens up enough to make a shelter. I don’t want to be too close, because animals will come here for their water. I’ve walked at least a solid hour and haven’t found anything flat enough or off an animal path to consider as a place to shelter in. Let’s hope that changes.” 

She turns and faces the thick wall of trees and bushes, not enthusiastic about having to enter it. “Here’s goes nothing,” she mutters, ducking down to crouch under a large branch. 

She struggles to get through, unable to stand for about fifteen feet until the area opens up a little. 

“I’ll have to find another way to the stream or cut my own path,” she breathes, walking carefully over a fallen log, trying not to trip. She follows a game trail for a little bit since it’s going in the direction she wants and sees to her left an opening. 

“This is what I’m looking for,” she nods, taking out the camera from her pocket and mounting it to the tripod. She carries it beside herself, showing the area. “I’m not seeing any game trails,” she says, “that’s a bit encouraging,” she walks around the area, “there’s a big blow down,” she comments on a mass of trees that have fallen, most likely from a storm, “I’ll have to check for widow makers, I don’t want anything to fall on me,” 

She goes further north, where the landscape changes and the ground becomes slightly rockier with some sun poking through the canopy of trees. “I like this,” Tobin says, having the camera on herself, nodding at the scene before her. “This rock faces west, so that would probably take the brunt of the cold winds, I could setup right up against it, if I make a really good roof, the wind would blow right over it. I’m on the lee side of the mountain so I don’t think I’ll catch a lot of the north winds. ” 

“I’m not settling on this right now, this second,” she says, “I’ve got a little time still before I really have to hit it to get a shelter up before dark.” She starts to walk west, back to wards the coast, “I’m going to follow this area a little in the opening, see what’s around,” 

The brush picks up a little, but there’s still enough ground showing that Tobin feels she could make a camp in this area. She follows a small rise in the land, and comes across two very large rocks, one maybe eight feet high and the other one about six. There’s next to each other with about ten feet between them. 

“This is it.” Tobin says excitedly, “It’s gonna be so rad,” she nods looking over the area, “no trails in the area, although I’m sure animals will wander in around here, but I don’t see any scat. Maybe some deer and rabbit but no bears or anything else. These two rocks will be the support for my roof. Tonight, I’ll just make a basic shelter, and then tomorrow, I’ll start on the actual construction.” 

She set the tripod down, angling it towards the area, “The blow down isn’t far away, just about thirty yards, so I’ll try to find branches to use from there, maybe save some energy and not have to chop down any trees yet.” 

She realizes she needs to go back and retrieve her camera gear so she can set up at least one more camera for her shelter build. She unbuckles the chest straps of her backpack, shucking it off and setting it down next to the near rock. She looks up and sees she should head straight through the woods and that would take her back to the shoreline. She makes sure she has her knife clipped to her belt, grabs the small camera for the trip and begins. 

As she walks, she notices how the rocks are increasing to her right, creating the formation of the high mountain that cuts off her beach in the cove. “Yes!” she shouts as she spies another waterfall and stream on the right, much closer than the first one she saw. The stream heads for the ocean, the brush becoming more dense as Tobin gets closer to the beach. She finds a game trail that takes her to the beach about a hundred yards from where she originally landed. 

She walks along the beach, picking up a plastic bottle, a length of rope and a piece of flat wood that have drifted ashore. She drops them down above the tideline, knowing she will possibly use them for something at a later time. She reaches the gear boxes, grabbing one of them and carrying it back the way she came. 

It’s not a long walk, she’s pleasantly surprised to find, although she does decide to mark the trees for the return trip. 

“I think I’m going to mark some of the trees,” she comments, “make it easier to travel especially if I’m out at night.” She stops to cut away a piece of the bark, pocketing what she removes. She does this several times as she makes her way to the game trail, marking the trees on the trail as well. 

“One last trip and I can begin the shelter,” she says, bringing the case back to camp. When she arrives and sets the case down, she sets the tripod up a bit away from camp so the view covers the whole area. She gets out another camera, firing it up and setting it on a stone at a different angle from camp. The third camera, she’ll take with when she goes to find some good poles to use. 

“This pole should be perfect,” she pants as she drags it through the woods, “I just need to cut off the branches and smooth it out so it doesn’t tear the fabric of my tarp,” she says, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. 

“I hope to get it up and set for the night within the hour, then maybe I can try to catch a fish or check out the shoreline for something to eat tonight.” She shifts her grip on the tree limb and begins to pull it along towards her camp. 

 

It’s a few hours later, a small fire burning, Tobin placed it near the center of her shelter, digging a hole and using a few stones to create a safe fire ring. She’s got a pile of pine branches close by with her sleeping bag unfurled on top of it, her gear placed near it. Tobin methodically stripped the limb of bark and smoothed over any knots and knobs from the branches she lopped off. Once the long pole was trimmed to her satisfaction, she balanced one end on one rock and lifted the other on so it set on the shorter rock. She tossed some heavier stones up on the anchor boulders along with some clumps of moss and then scrambled up to use the stones and moss to ancho her ridgepole and prevent it from rolling from side to side.

“I’m so lucky to have found these crabs,” she says as she finishes eating, “they were right on shore. I’ve always been told to go for the easiest food, conserve your energy.” 

She nods and bites her lip, “Guess I need to clean out my cookware, get the food smell out of here,” she shifts to her knees, gathering her frying pan and knife. She puts a headlamp on and clicks it to life and then puts on her jacket. As she walks the trail, she talks. 

“This is amazing,” she says as she walks, “I’m grateful to have such good fortune today, I know that may change, so I’ll take whatever this land offers me,” 

She cleans out the dish in the water, carefully cleaning her hands and the knife. “This knife,” she zooms in on it in her hand, “this knife was given to me by my teammates on the Thorns,” she smiles, “I love those guys, they’re the best, and this was so thoughtful.” She carefully places it in the sheath. 

She starts to walk through the brush, making noise to scare off any animals. “You know, I’d go camping with some of them, we’d head out into the woods around Mt. Hood, try to be as primitive as we could get sometimes. Depending on who came with,” she chuckles, “a couple of my friends are not big outdoorsy chicks, they’d prefer a hotel. But they’re a good sports and make their best effort when they comes along, although I’ve never personally brought shampoo and conditioner with me in the woods.” She smirks at the camera, “Love ya, Harry! Love ya, Al!” 

“The master plan is to have an angled roof, and then on these two outer walls, I’ll make some bough thatch walls. I want to divide the living area and make a workspace where I can store wood and whatever on the short side.” She shrugs at the camera, “Tonight, it's a simple A-frame." She had gotten the ridgepole up and anchored and then flung her tarp over it, she used some branches that she cut down to use as stakes to anchor the tarp to the ground. 

“I don’t want to make it too big, ‘cause it’ll be hard to heat, but I also need to remember, there’s going to be two of us.” She nods, tightening her lips against her mouth, “I wonder how my partner is doing,” she murmurs, “hope they’re okay,” she sighs, “it’s going to be weird,” she admits, “sharing space with a stranger,” she scratches at the back of her neck, “I kinda feel like I’m a kid again, going to my first camp away from home. Nervous.” 

She hugs her knees and leans forward, “It’s a different type of anxiety,” she continues, “meeting and sharing space with someone you don’t know,” she takes a deep breath, “I almost didn’t enter this because of it,” she looks away, “most people don’t know that I deal with some anxiety issues sometimes,” she says quietly, “it’s not so bad now, but there was a time it was terrifying and paralyzing for me.” She clears her throat, “I’m so happy that the US Soccer Federation provided therapists for their players, because if they hadn’t, my life would most likely be very different from how it is right now.” She looks at the ground pensively, remembering some of the bad periods of her life, “It’s why I choose the organization To Write Love On Her Arms as one of my charities. The good work they do helps so many people and I really just want everyone to know that when you’re struggling mentally, you shouldn’t do it alone. There’s nothing wrong about talking to someone to help you get through some hard times. The benefits you can get from just talking to someone is amazing, trust me, I know.” 

She looks at the fire for a long time, her mind wandering, “I should go to sleep now,” she says quietly, “that’s it for tonight.” She reaches over the shuts off the camera. 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind comments and the kudos- I appreciate them! 
> 
> The split chapters between Tobin and Christen will continue for a bit until they meet up, then the story moves forward as one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	4. Christen's Lead Up & Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen prepares to embark on her journey, tying up her loose ends, making sure she has everything taken care of. 
> 
> Then she hits the airport, gets to the island and has a brief, chance encounter with a certain soccer player.

October 20th, 2015 

 

“Dr. Simpson will be with you for the rest of the semester,” Christen announces to the lecture hall, “I certainly hope you give her the same effort in this class as you’ve given me.” 

She hears some groans in the auditorium as she walks across the stage, clicking her remote, “You’ll see, as it is in your syllabus and we’ve discussed at the start of the semester, this week’s exam counts heavily for your grade. The second half of this semester with Dr. Simpson will cover mostly labs and then final with focus on that particular area of study.” 

“It’s been a pleasure teaching you, I’m sure I’ll see some of you next semester.” She clicks the remote to display the outline of her exam. 

"Go kick some ass out there, Dr. Press!" a male voice fills the large room. Christen looks out and smiles, "Thanks," she says, "I'll do my best." 

The class begins a slow clap which grows slightly faster and then breaks out into applause, many of her students cheering her on. Christen feels her chest grow warm with gratitude, this class, while large, holds many terrific students who she's really connected with. 

"Alright," she says, waving her hand to lower the noise, "the sooner you guys take this exam, the sooner I can get packed and out of here," she smiles at them. 

“Remember, I will have normal office hours until October 27th,” she states, “that would be your last chance for any extra credit offerings.” She walks over to her desk and sits, brushing her long straight hair to the side. 

“You have two hours to complete this exam, I believe in you, you guys have got this. Now's your chance to kick some academic ass.” 

While she stares out at the near capacity filled seats, watching as her students partake in the exam, Christen’s mind wanders. 

In the ten days since she broke up with Monica, it’s been radio silence from the woman. She thought she saw her car pass her house a few times, but she wasn’t positive. At least she hasn’t been subjected to a barrage of texts and phone calls, that would have been irritating. 

She did miss Monica, the woman had a certain impish charm about her, always trying to engage in some sort of fun. She recognizes that they did have some good time together, but the whole aggressiveness she began to display just wasn’t for her. She didn’t like feeling that she had to inform Monica of her every move at all times. 

Her and Jen spoke about it at length, Jen being more concerned of Monica displaying stalker type behavior, more so than Christen did. With not having heard from her since the break up, Christen feels pretty decent she won’t have any troubles with her. 

Her mind drifts to her preparations for her trip. She’s completed all of the forms and gotten her physical, everything on that end is set. She’s gone out to the woods, shooting the requested short videos her setting up her camp, just short snippets of her out in the bush performing different tasks. 

The most difficult part of the whole process for her was the choosing of her five survival items to take. Her unknown partner, a celebrity of some sort, would get to choose ten items. She’s made lists of gear, trying to figure out and guess what her partner would choose, then figuring she would choose some additional items that would add to their comfort. 

The only thing she knows about her partner is that it would be a woman. That’s it. She knows they must possess a certain level of outdoor knowledge, but how much, she has no clue. The set up for this series dictates that her partner would be dropped off in a remote area that is bordered by significant natural barriers. Water would obviously be one side of it, she supposes mountains would be the other ones. 

She would be released somewhere in the woods and have to hike in to join her. The producers estimate that her hike would take anywhere from three to seven days, depending on the terrain she would face. 

With that knowledge, Christen decides the best thing she could do was to create her own basic list of necessities, those items she would need to survive her days and nights of hiking. Obviously her knife was a must, her flint striker to make a fire, a tarp for storage of food and goods and also so she would have some sort of cover from the elements and she would need her metal cup with the metal holder that doubles as a pot.

Her last choice was the trickiest. She spent hours contemplating what her partner would choose and finally decided to wing it and go with her length of wire to make snares and double as cordage if necessary. 

She arrived at that decision by believing her partner would focus on building the permanent shelter would bring an axe or a saw or both, tarps for cover, a firestarter of some sort, their own knife, cup or pan, maybe even a bear sack. 

Satisfied she would be able to get to her partner with those items and have the snare wire contribute to their survival when the weather turns and they could set snares, Christen decided not to worry about her choices. 

They would be issued headlamps from the production company, camera gear, although hers would be much lighter weight than her partner. They were on their own for their clothing and weather gear. 

She knows the certain must haves she wants to bring from her closet, but she also wants to get a few newer items to help her deal with the cold. 

She flinches as she comes back to reality, looking out at her students, smiling to herself. The university was extremely cooperative to her unusual request to take a sabbatical at such a time during the semester. She knew her nickname around campus from the other professors was Golden Child, but she felt strongly about this opportunity. Having Jen, her department head, in her corner was a big plus. She would cover her classes for the remainder of the semester. 

Christen spent the last part of summer break planning her semester, weighing the first part of the semester heavier by assigning her students the more difficult tasks early on. She had them writing papers, doing their group projects much earlier than most other classes. In the end, after Jen looking it over, they both decided that this lesson planning might benefit the students more by having Christen’s assignments not interfere as much with their other classes. 

As the students start packing up their laptops and leaving, it jars Christen that the time has passed so quickly. She begins to pack her own possessions into her leather briefcase, looking forward to a quiet night in front of the TV with some Chinese take out and her dogs. 

 

October 28th, 2015

 

“This looks legit,” Jen says, nodding approvingly as she looks over Christen’s laid out belongings for her trip. The two are in her guest bedroom, surveying the clothing and gear laid out on the bed. “You seem to have everything you need,” 

Christen nods, “I think I have it covered,” she says, “I picked up some new socks and a sweater, but everything else is in good shape.” 

“You excited?” Jen grins at her, knowing that Christen is practically floating. 

“I can’t wait to get out there,” Christen confesses, “it’s one thing to go out for a week or two,” she says, “but this,” she raises her eyebrows at Jen, “this is seeing how long you can last,” 

“Pretty epic,” Jen smiles, crossing her arms and stepping back to lean against the wall, “I predict you and your partner will have the best set up,” 

“Jen,” Christen says, uncertainty seeping in, sitting on the edge of the bed, “what is she’s hard to work with? Like, what is she is blatantly doing something poorly and won’t follow any suggestions I may make? What if we don’t get along?” 

“I highly doubt anyone would ignore a suggestion to them by you,” Jen assures her, “you need to remember, you’re viewed as the pro, anyone with any sense would defer to you out there.”

“I don’t know,” Christen remains unconvinced, “what if this celebrity has a huge ego and thinks everything they do is perfect?” 

“Didn’t you fill out some sort of survey? Like a personality test?” Jen questions. 

“Yeah,” Christen admits, “I don’t know how much they’ll try to match us or anything though,” 

“Chris,” Jen says warmly, “you’re a nice person. You have a way about you that is gentle and non-threatening, I don’t think you’ll have any problems. You can get along with most anyone.” 

“I hope so,” Christen sighs, “I don’t like the prospect of rooming with someone I don’t get along with,” 

“Just think of it this way,” Jen smirks, “it’ll be so easy for you to, very innocently, make them look like an idiot. You make a suggestion, they don’t follow it, they have problems, you look like the sane one. They’ll dig their own hole, you just hand them the shovel.” 

“I’m not going to be a jerk and set them up to fail,” Christen shake her head, “but I know what you’re saying.” She stands up, leading Jen out of the room into the kitchen, “Do you have any idea who could be on the show?” 

Over a couple of beers and some chips and salsa, the two speculate for the next hour about possible contestants. They pulled their phones out, scouring the internet looking for any possible scuttlebutt on the show. To their disappointment, the production company was tight lipped and nothing had been released. 

 

October 31st, 2015 

Day 1 

 

“Be a good girl,” Christen sniffs, hugging Morena once more before getting up from her knees to stand with a tear streaked face before Jen. 

“They’ll be fine,” Jen assures her, watching as Christen’s lower lip juts out as she frowns. 

“They’re my babies,” Christen says as she wipes her eyes, “I’m going to miss them,” 

Jen brings her in her arms, “Of course you are,” she says, “and they’ll miss you. But you’re doing this, so let’s go.” She turns Christen by the shoulders and escorts her out the front door to her car. 

“I can do this,” Christen says aloud, “I will do this,” 

“You’re gonna kick ass Chris,” Jen says, “you’ll be great,” 

Jen guides the car to the airport, Christen gradually relaxing from her anxiety of leaving her dogs and becoming excited. 

“I just hope it doesn’t rain for a few days,” Christen says, “if I could catch that break, it would be awesome.”

“Well, the last time we looked,” Jen reminds her, “that storm front wasn’t moving in until, like, five days out,” 

“Let’s hope the stays that way,” Christen smiles, holding up a set of crossed fingers. 

 

XXXX

 

“Yep, this is it,” Christen says, glancing around the airport terminal as she waits to board her flight, “Mom, part of me is still in shock that it’s really happening,” 

“Oh honey,” Stacey chides her, “you just go and remember what a gift it is for you to be experiencing it. I hope you feel that power of Mother Earth, how much she loves you,” 

“Mom,” Christen rolls her eyes, “you are such a hippie,” she deadpans. 

“Hey,” her Mom says, “look who’s talking, my meditation and yoga loving daughter.” 

“You’re right,” Christen chuckles, “although I highly doubt you’ll be hearing me speak about Mother Earth on TV. My colleagues would revolt.” 

“Sweetie, I just want you to remember to take some time out there to reflect and enjoy yourself. I want you to find something deep in those woods that you'll forever be grateful to have found in yourself.” 

“Thanks Mom,” Christen smiles, “I love you,” she says, “looks like we’re starting to board,” 

“Okay, you call as soon as you can, you hear?” Stacey commands, “night or day,” 

“I will Mom,” Christen agrees, “talk to you…whenever!” she giggles. 

“Have an amazing time!” 

Christen drops her phone into the open top of her purse, turning to look at the display in the gate as people begin to stand and move around. 

As she takes her seat on the plane, she feels this overwhelming giddiness wash over her. She’s so excited, this is such an amazing opportunity. To try and survive for as long a you can. The longest she’s ever been out in the woods was for two weeks with an organized group. They did work to exist in a primitive manner, but it wasn’t truly roughing it. 

This is going to be the real deal. 

She digs into her backpack, pulling out her itinerary and scanning over it. She would be met by a member of the production staff and taken to the main hotel. The crew and director does not want the contestants to meet before the show begins. They want to maintain an air of mystery before the partners meet. 

Christen snorts to herself, _The stars probably don’t want to mix with us regular people_ , she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes. 

While they wait to push back, Christen pulls out her phone, trying to find a restaurant for dinner tonight. The Bucksnort Bar and Grill peaks her interest. She sees it’s within walking distance from the motel. The motel also has an RV park. She imagines the celebrities will be staying at an upgraded hotel in town. 

She checks out the Bucksnort’s menu, finding a nice selections of pasta dishes, thinking she should carbo load if possible. 

Satisfied that she has a plan for the evening, she reviews the meetings for tomorrow morning. Meeting with the safety crew for a review, then a refresher meeting with the camera crew. A quick lunch and then get started. Pretty simple and to the point. 

She shuts her phone off, placing it back in her backpack, stuffing the pack under the seat in front of her. It’s a pretty quick flight from Portland to Vancouver, she stands up to patiently wait to de-plane. 

She grabs a coffee in the terminal while waiting for the shuttle flight to take to Vancouver Island. She browses her phone, then a gift shop, then decides she deserves one last ice cream before heading out to the great beyond. 

She strolls through past the gates casually, knowing she has plenty of time, enjoying her mint chocolate chip cone. She does a quick double take, seeing a monitor for Vancouver Island that’s not her gate listed on her boarding pass. Startled and worried because they are boarding the flight, she fumbles for her backpack to retrieve her boarding pass. 

Looking at it, she confirms she’s at Gate 12. She looks up and squints at the message board, reading the flight number is different than her boarding pass. 

_It’s just an earlier flight,_ she thinks, _wait, is that Tobin Heath?_

She takes a couple steps closer, craning her neck to see the lanky midfielder, looking rather bored and a little disheveled with a beanie perched precariously on her head as she stands near the gate attendant, waiting for him to scan her boarding. 

_Holy shit, it is!_ She unconsciously steps closer, watching as Tobin hikes her orange backpack higher on her shoulder and smiles at the attendant and walks through the entrance to the jetway. 

Christen just stands there for a moment, wondering what Tobin Heath would be doing in Vancouver Island, then she feels her ice cream melting onto her hand. She quickly licks, rolling her eyes at her silliness of being so consumed with the soccer player. 

When she finishes, she makes her way back down to her gate, stopping to use the restroom and freshen up. 

She returns to her gate, finding her seat and noting she has just a few minutes to wait before they board. She glances out the window and sees her plane is in the gate and smiles, congratulating herself on her timing. 

She contemplates why Tobin Heath would be on the island, curious with the sighting of her. Could she be on the show, she wonders. She shrugs it off, remembering that even casual fans are aware of the woman’s extensive travels in her offseason. 

She doesn’t even have time to pull out her phone before her flight is called and she gathers her backpack and jacket and walks over to get in line. 

It’s a short flight, Christen choosing to rest her eyes, still excited that she’s actually doing this. When she lands, it only takes a couple of minutes for her to deplane and follow the signs for the baggage area. It’s a much smaller and older airport, she makes a note for her return flight that there aren’t too many places to eat.

Once she follows the signs to the baggage area, she scans the area, seeing the baggage claim, and also a young man waiting with her name on a small sign. 

She sees her duffel bag coming through and grabs it, hefting it over her shoulder and looks for the man. 

“Hi, I’m Christen Press,” she introduces herself to him. 

“Hey, I’m Jarod,” he grins, “uh,” he tries to look official, “would you state the reason you are here?” 

“A TV show?” Christen answers, shrugging. 

“Bingo!” Jarod chuckles, “Let’s get you to the motel,” he says, “let me take that bag from you,” he offers, reaching for the strap and taking it from her, “don’t want you to expend any energy unnecessarily,” he grins. 

“Thanks,” Christen says as she follows him out to the parking lot. 

In the van, Jarod turns to look at Christen while stopped at a light, “Do you know if you’re going to eat at the motel or somewhere else tonight?” 

“I was thinking of somewhere else,” Christen admits. 

“The Bucksnort is the probably the closest,” he offers, “and it’s really the best of the places you could walk to around here.” 

“You’ve eaten there?” Christen inquires. 

“Oh yeah,” Jared nods vigorously, “I ate once or twice at the motel,’ he explains, “the breakfast is really good, dinner, not so much,” he crinkles his nose, “the Bucksnort is great home cooking.” 

“Great,” Christen smiles, “I researched it a little and thought that’s where I would go,” 

“Good choice,” he nods, “we’re here.” 

“Oh, wow,” Christen says, peering out to view her new surroundings for the night, it’s an older motel with a large RV park. _As long as it’s clean, I’ll be fine_ , Christen thinks to herself. 

“It’s much nicer on the inside,” Jarod comments, as if reading her mind, “I guess they just did the rooms over this spring.” 

A small wave of relief passes over Christen, “Great,” she gives him a small smile. 

 

“This isn’t so bad,” Christen murmurs, looking around the room as she sets her large duffel on the second queen bed. She shrugs off her backpack, then her jacket. She inspects the opposite bed, flipping up the mattress quickly, looking suspiciously for any critters that might be living there. Satisfied there are no bed bugs, she sits on the bed, taking in her surroundings. 

The room is basic but clean, there’s a desk, a small fridge and a small kitchenette near the door. She leaves the bed to check out the bathroom, nodding in approval at the shower. 

She looks at her watch, figuring she wants to go to sleep early so she can meditate and do some yoga in the morning before she has to leave for her meetings and begin her adventure. 

_Let’s hit the Bucksnort,_ she thinks. She gathers her jacket, removes her wallet from her purse and stuffs it on her pocket. She double checks that she has her phone and room key and departs. 

It’s a short walk in the brisk air, it’s chilly enough she can see her breath. She takes a photo of the sign of the bar, finding it endearing. She enters and takes in the atmosphere for a moment, scanning her eyes across the interior. She opts to eat at the bar, wanting to see if the maybe they would put the weather channel on one of the TVs behind the bar. 

She removes her jacket and takes her seat, noticing a few other people at the bar. The bartender comes by and she places her order, deciding to have a glass of red wine as a little treat. She looks around and can’t believe it when she sees Tobin Heath on the other end of the bar, still wearing her beanie, head down as she eats, looking at her phone. 

The possibility that Tobin is here to participate in show suddenly comes to her mind. 

_What would the chances be,_ she thinks as she toys with her wine glass, _what if she ended up being my partner. I don't think I've ever heard of her being into the outdoors, though. I guess anything is possible._

She considers it as she sees the bartender smiling at her as she presents her meal, setting the bowl of pasta on the bar in front of her. 

“Thank you,” Christen says softly, giving her a smile. Realizing how hungry she is, she digs in. As she eats, she keeps glancing Tobin’s way, hoping to maybe catch her eye. She’s in the middle of eating when the weather report comes on the TV nearest her, drawing her attention. 

She turns when she hears the screech of a chair against the wood floor, looking up to see Tobin staring at her sheepishly having stumbled into it. Christen gives her a smile, finding her clumsiness endearing. Tobin gives her this adorable shy smile as she looks at Christen and then rushes for the door. 

She fumbles with the door, making Christen smile again, wishing Tobin had stopped to say hello. She finishes her meal and lingers over another glass of wine, imagining what it would be like if she and Tobin were partnered together for the show. 

She drains her glass and settles the bill, slowly pulling on her jacket and zipping it up to ward against the cold. She makes her way back to the motel, entering her room and preparing for an early bedtime. 

 

November 1, 2015 

Day 2

The safety meeting was interesting Christen thinks as she packs her remaining items into the duffle bag. Her gear for the trip is ready, this is the bag she will leave with the production company with her personal items and additional clothes for traveling back home. 

She had risen early, ate a quick breakfast, did some yoga in her room, then sat on the floor and meditated. She focused on remaining calm and clear in thought, purposeful in movement. Then she packed up. 

Jarod takes her to the airport again, this time she’s met by Lisa, one of the production members, who leads her to a helicopter. They load her up and soon she is in the air. 

“You head straight west,” the pilot’s voice fills Christen’s earphones, “your partner is in between those two peaks.” 

Christen scans the forested area ahead of her, noting the rocky terrain closest to her leading down into a heavily forested area. There’s a slight depression in the land and then what appears to be an open prairie that she hopes isn’t a marsh. 

A steep incline up to the top between the peaks where her partner will be that leads to the ocean. 

She notes there’s a river crossing before the marsh, making her tense up. Those can be tricky. She estimates she could reasonably cover this distance in about four days, although the thickness of the first forested area could slow her down. 

She takes a snapshot of her view in her mind, memorizing the peaks. She looks to the sun, it’s ahead of her to her left right now, giving her a good marker for her western course. 

The pilot sets the chopper down in a small open area free of the large rocks that borders on the forest. He helps her offload her pack. 

Before he takes off, the cameraman assists Christen in strapping on her GoPro and microphone and affixing the small gear bag of camera gear to the back of her pack. The satellite phone is secure is in her zippered shut coat pocket. She’s got a handheld camera on a tripod to carry with and film their departure. 

She waves as the two men enter the helicopter, “This is it,” she announces as the helicopter takes flight, “I’m on my own.” 

She pans on the chopper until it is out of sight, then slowly moves the camera west. “This is my direction,” she states, “due west to the ocean, between those peaks you can just make out.” 

She begins to walk, “I’d like an opening into these woods coming up,” she shares, “a game trail would be wonderful, if not, I’m going to have to just pick the best place to get in there.” 

It’s an easy walk through the rocky area, it’s relatively flat, the stones crunching underneath Christen’s boots. She pauses to reorient herself before the approaching tree line takes away her long view of the peaks she needs to be in between.

“This area is so interesting,” Christen states as she walks, stopping and picking up a fist sized rock, “this is a volcanic rock,” she states, beginning to walk again, “this island was formed about fifty-five million years ago.” She stops walking, setting the tripod on the ground and backing up. She holds her hand out, palm down, “This is the North American continental margin,” she puts her other hand up in the same position, the slowly moving her hand to slide below her other one. “This is a microplate of the Kula Plate which slide underneath, the arc of the volcano fused to the western edge of North America and how the plate warped form the Insular Mountains.”

She stops speaking and shakes her head, “Okay, I’m not in class,” she grins, reaching for the camera, “no more lectures today,” she says, continuing to hike along. 

She drops the rock as she scans the area, “Ooh,” she exclaims, bending over, selecting a small rock and holding it in her flat palm, “this is so pretty,” she starts walking again, holding up the rock to the sky, squinting as she looks at it. 

“This is a quartz stone,” she nods, then shakes her head, “I’ve got to keep on track here and stop getting distracted by all of this,” she smiles at the camera, “time to focus on these woods.” 

She walks a few more yards and then pans her camera in front of her, the forest ahead of her looking dense. She looks at her watch, “Sunset is in about four hours,” she states, “I’m going to hike for two, then after that, anywhere that looks good to camp for the night is where I’ll set up.” 

She takes a deep breath, “Here we go,” she announces, using her free hand to pull a large branch to the side and enter the woods. 

 

She’s been walking for two hours, steadily picking her way through the woods. It’s not flat by any means, the ground undulating with rolling hills and a few steeper ravines she has to manage through. 

“People wonder how you can keep your sense of direction when you’re in such heavy bush and can’t see the sun,” Christen speaks as she walks along, “when I first entered the woods, I selected a tree about ten yards ahead of me that is due west. Once I get there, I select another and keep doing that. Keeps it pretty close until you can find the sun to reorient yourself.”

An hour passes as Christen pans her camera on an area in front of her, “This looks like a pretty good place to stop for the night,” she murmurs, “I can make a simple lean to and shelter under it,” she points to her left, “there’s a few trees down over there, maybe I can manage to find one to work as a ridge pole.” 

She sets her camera down, adjusting the tripod on her future camp area. She sheds her pack and jacket, comfortable wearing a thick sweater. She approaches a nearby tree, pulling out of knife and slicing off a four foot section of the branch, using it to clear out the ground where she intends to camp. 

“I’m just going to make a simple lean to, basically just throwing a tarp over a branch between these trees.” She explains, squatting to open her pack and remove a tarp. “This is just a down and dirty shelter, not much energy to make, simple for a single night.” 

 

 

“Alright,” Christen nods approvingly, “I’ve got the shelter made, a small fire going and now, with the minimal light available, I’m going to check out if I can find anything else to eat.” It’s early dusk, still light enough to get around without a problem, but the shadows in the woods are growing longer. “I’ve been grazing as I walk, just anything I find, I eat, but I’d like to see what are the resources around here and maybe I can have something a little more filling.” 

“Here’s some fireweed,” Christen picks up leaves of a smallish bush, “it’s in the lettuce family, a little bitter but full of vitamins.” She tosses some into her mouth, crunching a little as she chews. She moves on the another area near her camp, “Ooh!” she exclaims, “These mushrooms are edible,” she notes, skillfully trimming the mushroom at the base. 

She holds it up, “So, I always trim these, never yank them out,” she explains, “this way, the mushroom grows back. If you take out the root, that’s it,” she tilts her head, “and since these have a pretty quick growing cycle, especially in the summer, if you were in an extended survival situation, you would want these to keep growing.” 

She gathers enough mushrooms to fill her hat, then heads back to her camp. Her metal water cup is doing its job, the water inside is on a low boil. Christen puts a sprig from a pine tree in it to give it some flavor and the added nutrients.

Christen sets up her kitchen, a flat rock in front of her, kneeling next to the fire. She carefully slices up the mushroom, rinsing them with some water from her plastic water bottle. 

She then dumps them in her metal pot, adding some clean water to it. She uses her knife to arrange and move the mushroom pieces, the feeling of fatigue beginning to set in. 

“That was a fairly tough hike today,” she says as she cooks, “the terrain was always changing, quite hilly, quite a few logs down to get over,” she begins moving the mushrooms from the pot to a large leaf. “My hope is to make it to the clearing tomorrow,” she says, nodding as she pierces a piece of mushroom with the tip of her blade, bringing it to her mouth and eating it. 

She swallows and takes a few more pieces, “I love mushrooms,” she says, happily eating away. 

“If I could get to the clearing tomorrow, I’m sure I could make it to my partner’s camp by the next night, which would be three days,” she moves her cup off the fire, letting it cool down enough to drink. 

“That would be ideal,” Christen nods as she eats some of the fireweed, crunching on it noisily, “I hate the idea of my partner out there alone,” she says, “I hope they don’t think I expect for the shelter to completed or they have a figured out some prime food sources. I want to contribute, do it together.” 

She sets the leaf down, done eating, “I just really want the partnership to start off the right foot,” she says, “I just hate the idea that they could be out there struggling,” she says, frowning, “I know we’re only on the first day,” she says, leaning back a little, “but all sorts of things could happen that would make anyone consider tapping out.” 

It’s now completely dark, the fire providing the only light, Christen shivers, “I think I’m going to get in my sleeping bag,” she says, yawning. “Yeah,” she slowly stands up, “time to change and hunker down for the night.” 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for the kudos and comments- keep the comments coming- I love hearing your thoughts. It's a couple more chapters before the two get together, but these build up chapters are important to the overall story. Please be patient. 
> 
> thanks again!  
> MT


	5. Tobin- Prepping The Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the next few days, Tobin works hard to create a sturdy shelter and establish a camp routine. Her ultimate goal is to have things ready for her partner's arrival. Good luck and good weather fall her way, and she spends her time working hard.

Tobin- Prepping the Camp  
November 2, 2015  
Day 3  
“I’m so hungry,” Tobin whines into the camera, “I think I need to go fishing this morning and make a kitchen area for cooking, forage on my way to the water, set the gill net.” 

She gathers her supplies, taking everything she thinks she could possibly need down by the water. She grabs her little camera on the tripod, holding it with her as she walks, “It would be cool to catch a fish super quick, or maybe a couple of crabs,” she states as she carefully picks her way through the woods, noting the marks on the trees along her path, “I usually eat quite a few times a day when I’m in season, so this is going to be an adjustment.” 

She gets to the shore, scouting around and finding a decent spot to set up her kitchen. She leaves her back pack there as she begins to prepare her gill net. She nibbles on some bull kelp as she works, using her handsaw to cut down a log to use as an anchor. 

“The tide is in right now, so if I get this ready, I’ll be here when the tide goes out and get it set up.” She states as she works, intertwining the end of the net to the pole, making sure it’s safely secured. 

She hears the faint sound of a motorboat, stopping her work to peer out of the cove to the ocean. The engine noise grows closer, causing Tobin to straighten up and stand along the shore. She glances at the camera, “I hope they’re not coming for me,” she says, concern in her voice, “I hope something didn’t happen to my partner and they tapped out,” 

One of the rules of this show was that both partners had to complete it. If one person tapped out, both were eliminated. 

The boat sounds closer, Tobin grows nervous, “Aw, man,” she grumbles, “I don’t want it to end so soon,” 

She sees the boat appear at the end of the cove, relief flooding her as it continues straight along and not turning in to her area. “Whew!” she exclaims, smiling at the camera, shaking her head, “I was nervous there for a minute.” 

As the tide creeps out, Tobin starts walking around, looking around in the mix of her sandy and rocky shoreline. She yells out in triumph in finding a decent sized fish caught in a shallow pool. She makes quick work of killing it with a rock to the head, fileting it and getting it in her frying pan. She gets a fire going, and soon is eating her fish. 

 

“I need to establish a decent daily routine,” she says, nodding to herself as she eats, “in a little bit, I’ll be able to set my line out. Then I’ll make my lean to for the kitchen. After that, I’ll go back and start bringing over timber for my shelter. I’ll have to get more water so I can have it boiling to purify it. As much as I’d like to drink from that stream, I can’t risk it.” 

As the sun begins to hit the area, Tobin sheds her wool sweater so she doesn’t sweat as she works. She makes a simple lean to with scavenged wood, branches and drift wood from the shore. She uses a small length of paracord to secure the wood pieces to the cross plank she set up, satisfied it will do the job. 

“I can always beef this up later,” she says, picking up the camera and carrying it with her. She stops walking to pan the cove and points out where she laid her gill net out. 

“I’m not a fish, so I have no idea how they might hang around here yet, but I thought that was a decent spot. Plus, it’s kind of easy to get to from shore when the tide goes down. I think I have a few hours to go back to camp and start working on the main shelter.” 

 

XXXX

 

A few hours have passed and Tobin is preparing to go back down to the water to check her net. 

“As you can see,” she says as she pans the camera around her shelter, “I’ve made some progress,” 

She walks over to the far wall she built. “This wall faces north so I figured to create a super sturdy wall and I plan to add a layer of debris on the outside to help insulate it and keep that cold north wind out. I made it about six feet high so the roof will have a slant so when the snow comes, it won’t put too much weight on it.” She turns and leaves the inside of the shelter. 

“This is the entrance wall,” she states as she pans over it, “it’s about six feet high as well,” she points to the far end, “there’s the entrance. I’ll put a wind break in front of it.” The opening is about three feet from the shorter rock. “This side, even with the opening and to the short rock will be where I’ll keep the dry wood, you can see I’ve started stacking logs in there already. It mustn’t have rained here for a while because there’s plenty of dry wood around. Tomorrow, I’ll spend some more time gathering what I can and stacking it in here. I’ll cut it down later, but I want to almost fill it before the rains come.” 

“I know rain water will run down the rocks on the inside, so I won’t be able to do much about that. I did put some gravel up there to weight it down but I’m sure it wouldn’t make a proper seal. So, on the inside, I dug out a trench for the water to slope away and out of the shelter.” She quirks her mouth as she looks around, “If anything, I can build an interior wall to keep the heat in and just have an open space between the rock and it. I’ll ask my pro what she thinks would be the best thing to do.” 

She turns the camera on herself, “Now, let’s go see if my gill net caught anything.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 3, 2015 

 

Day 4 

 

“I really took a chance putting these fish in my bear bag and leaving them in the water overnight.” Tobin states as she filets the sixteen salmon she caught yesterday. Her joy while taking them from the net was quickly displaced with fear of the predators and wondering how to store them until she could smoke them. 

“So, here’s the smoker,” she pans to a teepee made with a blue plastic tarp, smoke coming out of the bottom sides of it. She stands up and walks over to it, pulling a flap back and showing the rows of hanging fish on the sticks she used to create multiple levels inside. “These are about halfway done,” she announces, “maybe a couple more hours, then I can do this pile.” She pans back to a flat rock that has seven more fileted fish on it. 

“I figure I’ll hang this all in my bear bag as high as I can,” Tobin states, “when my pro gets here, I’ll ask them if we can make an underground storage, below the frost line,” she shrugs, “I saw it in some documentary, but I’m not sure how deep to put it down. I don’t know if the bears will get to it.” 

“Oh!” she exclaims, her face lighting up with a smile, “I found this cool stick!” She walks over back to her kitchen area, “check it out,” The stick is a gnarled piece of warped driftwood, the bark gone, with a weird curve to it at the top. It’s almost as tall as Tobin, looking more like a staff or twisted rod. “I’ve marked it with each day I’m here,” she smiles at the stick, “maybe if I get bored, I’ll do a little carving in it.” 

Suddenly her eyes dart to her left. “Hey bear!” she bellows, scanning the woods along shore near her. 

Branches can be heard cracking in the heavy brush. “Hey bear!” she yells again. With her eyes trained on the underbrush, Tobin reaches down to grab at the bear spray near her backpack. She stands, holding it out, “Get out of here!” she thunders, kicking at the rocks under her feet to make noise. 

A flurry of crackling is heard, leaves rustling and Tobin tenses up, but the noises begin to fade as the animal recedes further into the woods. 

“Whew!” she sighs, breathing heavy, “That was scary.” Her voice sounds shaky. “I have no clue what it was, but it was big.” 

She slowly moves with wobbly legs to perch herself on a nearby rock, “Woah,” she breathes, “I hope that doesn’t happen again,” she says, “I gotta get this fish taken care of and put up high,” her eyes scan the cove, looking for any movement. 

 

“Well, there it is,” Tobin says, hours later, shining her light on a bag hanging from a tree branch, “that’s all of the fish I caught today, it should stay good for quite some time,” she pans the camera to herself, “if some animal doesn’t get to it first.” She slowly walks in the darkness back to her shelter, “Today, I was scared,” she admits, “that took me by surprise and I need to remember to keep that in check. These animals can be anywhere and I'm in their territory.” She blows air noisily from her mouth. 

She enters her shelter, the small fire illuminating the area, even though she has the night vision on her camera. She sets the tripod down, angling the camera towards herself where she sits on her makeshift bed. 

“They said my partner would show up anywhere from Day Three on,” she says quietly, “I hope they come tomorrow,” she leans forward, reaching for her small stash of cattails she found earlier, she pops the edible part near the root in her mouth, chewing as she thinks. 

“I hope they’re okay,” she says after she swallows, she reaches for her ever present water bottle, taking a long drink, “it would be cool to work on this,” she waves her hand around her shelter, “with someone with more experience, to know if my idea is crap or decent.” 

She looks at the walls, “I think it’s pretty rad,” she says with a shrug, “we’ll see, I guess.” 

“So, tomorrow.” She nods at the camera, “Tomorrow’s plan would be to scout the coast for anything that washes up. It would be awesome to find some bottles or containers. If I could use something to hold the meat up in the tree, that would be great. I might need to figure out another bear bag if I get more fish, that thing is almost full.” 

“Continue to work on the shelter,” she says, holding up her index finger, “to the east it looked like the area opened up even more, I found some cattails over there, past the blow down, so maybe I can forage around there for edibles.” She holds up another finger, “do the coast thing, work on the shelter.” 

She smiles widely, “Good thing I like bouncing from one thing to another,” she yawns, “I should turn in, hope I don’t have a run in tonight because of animals or anything else. See you tomorrow.” 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 4, 2015 

 

Day 5 

 

 

“That doesn’t look good,” Tobin states as she widens her shot of the sky. To the north is a large dark cloud mass looming and it looks like it’s coming her way. 

She turns the camera around, she’s sitting on a log around her kitchen fire, “I hope that moves north and doesn’t hit me,” she murmurs, lifting her alloy mug to her lips, “cheers!” she says raising her mug, “Pine needle tea,” she comments, taking a sip, “not bad,” she says, “the Great Horan showed me the types of pine trees that make decent tea. Definitely not any of the coffee shops in Portland, shout out to Ferenbacher Hof on 19th Avenue.” 

“So, this weather worries me,” Tobin says, looking up at the sky, “I think I need to focus on my shelter, try to get the roof on, really push to get that as complete as possible. Collect as much dry wood and insulating materials as possible, throw them in the side area, I can do that when I’m bringing back the poles to make the roof supports.” 

She stands up quickly, “Less talking and more doing,” she says, “I better get moving.” 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Shit!” Tobin growls, slipping on the wet leaves beneath her feet, “Don’t fall you fucking idiot,” she mutters, tugging on the fallen tree she is pulling towards her shelter. She looks up and sees the ever present camera and frowns, “Sorry,” she says as she passes by it. 

Tobin has decided to pull over as many of the fallen trees she could in about an hour, figuring it would be smarter to strip the branches off near the shelter, tossing them in her wood room and saving a few steps and in the long haul, saving her energy. She’s pretty sure she can get maybe two thirds of the roof down with this last tree she’s bringing over. 

She figures she’ll go down to the cove, check to see what’s washed up, eat some lunch and by that time, the tide should be low enough for her to check her gill net. 

Depending on what’s in there, she’ll either filet some fish and smoke it, or come back up and work on her shelter. Also, it depends on the weather. The wind is picking up a bit and Tobin wants to get down to the cove, it’s the closest open space for her to look up at the sky. Her area around the shelter has many trees, the blow down area gets some sun, but there’s no good long distance range to see the sky.

She walks back to grab the camera and tripod, spotting some mushrooms she knows are edible. She cuts them at the stem which allows them to grow back and pockets them in her lightweight jacket she’s wearing. The temperature is bit cooler as the day goes on, Tobin thinks it’s the storm front, so she’s careful to stay warm but not overheat and get sweaty. 

At the cove, she meanders around, looking in the tidal pools for any fish or crabs, not seeing much. She uses her knife to peel off some Prince Edward Island mussels, their distinct bluish color makes them easily identifiable to her. She gathers about fifteen, stuffing them in her beanie, and brings them back to her kitchen. She dumps them in her cook pot, then goes to look around again. 

She cheers when she finds another fish, this one looks like a smaller rockfish, it’s pretty ugly, but she’ll eat it. She decides to make a stew, quickly gutting the fish and slicing out the pieces and adding them in with the mussels. She adds some bull kelp in with the mushrooms to give it a little extra flavor and sets the pot next to her fire ring. 

She gathers her small twigs and dried leaves, using her striker to get a spark and blowing the fire to life. She adds some larger branches as the fire grows and soon she has a decent one going and sets the pot closer to get it boiling. 

Satisfied she can leave it, Tobin walks to the other side of the cove, wanting to explore it since she hasn’t yet. Along the way, she finds another length of rope, a tangle of fishing line filled with hooks that she handles carefully, a bucket with a crack in it, and a large plastic buoy.

“This is cool,” she murmurs, picking it up and looking at it, “I could put that on one end of my gill net so it stays afloat,” she nods approvingly. She keeps glancing back to look at her kitchen area, making sure no curious animals have come near to investigate. As she approaches the sheer mountainside, she remembers the stream from her earlier explorations in the woods, she wonders if the mouth of it is over here.

The sand is disappearing and it’s a rocky beach under her feet as she carefully picks her way to the stream. She can hear the rushing of water as it dumps into the ocean.  
She sees a flash of color and realizes it’s fish. A late salmon run. 

“Holy shit!” she exclaims, forgetting that she’s filming, she’s wearing her GoPro and carrying the camera on the tripod. She sets the tripod down, turns instantly and makes her way back to the other side, wanting to relocate her net as soon as possible. 

She finds another large bucket on the way back, this one is intact, and she dumps the fishing line and rope in it as she moves as quickly as she safely can.

 

XXXX 

 

“I choose these seven fish from the ones I caught with my net,” Tobin says proudly, her camera panning on the large fish lying on a flat rock, “I figured there was enough fish going through I could just hold the net in between my legs and get ‘em that way,” she smiles broadly, “it was pretty awesome!” 

She filmed the whole sequence, she ended up barefoot in her Nike Pros and sports bra, laughing as the fish jumped all around her. She fell on her ass a couple of times, getting drenched but not caring since it was so fun. 

She lugged the fish each time she caught one to the shore, smashing their head with a rock and going back for more. She explained how she wanted to use the new container she found and figure out a way to suspend it from a tree to hold the fish after she smoked it. 

“Now, I need to get these ready for smoking.” She nods, carefully pulling her knife from the sheath and starting to work on the first fish. After each fish is properly prepared, she takes the strips and hangs them I her smoker, “I’m told that smoking fish is more like a drying out process and the low heat helps remove the moisture from the fish, the smoke just adds the flavor. I found alder to use, I know there’s tons of other trees that would work, but this was handy and what I’m used to.” 

“I figure I’ll eat an early lunch,” she says, moving back to her rock which is her cutting board and prep area, “I’m making a stew and I’m going to pan fry some of the internal organs.” She begins to put the pieces in her pot, “My pot has a locking lid, so I was thinking I could make this tonight and hang it,” she bites her lip, “I want to be able to feed my partner, whenever they get here, I don’t know if they’ll be hungry. So, I thought it would be cool to have something ready to go.” 

She walks with her pot in one hand and her camera in the other to her kitchen, kneeling and placing the pot almost in the fire, “I can’t imagine having to hike in and try to find me,” she muses as she picks the organs from the pot and sets them on her frying pan, “I wouldn’t be confident enough to do that, I mean, I know the basics of using a compass and the sun to guide my way, but that is way hardcore.” 

“I think one of the most important lessons I’ve learned from camping and trying my best to subsist outdoors is to never overestimate your level of knowledge or understanding. I always try to weigh the risks of what I’m doing,” she says, lifting her pan and setting it on the fire, “I mean, I have to, because I’m an athlete,” she shrugs, “my coaches aren’t too wild when they hear I’m skateboarding because they’ll think I’ll get hit by a car,” she shrugs with a smile, “so I try to ride on boardwalks along beaches, or paved trails, stay off the streets. I mean, if I get hurt, I’m not working.” 

She chews on her lower lip, “I guess it’s the same for everyone, but I mean,” she sighs, “I like to rock climb, indoors mostly, but I have to remember to really stretch out, because something as simple as pulling a muscle puts me on a disabled list.” 

She points her stick at the camera, “Nothing is worse than missing matches. Especially if it’s because I did something stupid to hurt myself.” 

She continues to poke and stir the food in her pan, “I’m getting older, I don’t know how long I’ve got to live this dream of playing,” she says quietly, “I’ve been so incredibly lucky for the opportunities I’ve been given, I want to play for as long as I can.” 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Some of the wood is damp,” Tobin observes, clicking on her headlamp to illuminate the eastern side of her shelter. It's a few hours later, the fire is providing some dim light, but her light shines on a pile of branches and larger logs stacked against the shorter rock near the entrance in her work area. 

“I want to build my interior wall,” she continues, taking a few steps back, digging the heel of her boot in the dirt and making a line, “this should be good, right about here.” she nods, “This will separate the work and storage area from the living area. I’ll give the wall a little room at the top, so it doesn’t tear the tarp, then I’ll stuff it with grasses or something.” 

She sets the camera down on the ground in the corner, next to the fire. “I think I’ll work on this tonight,” she says, her back to the camera, bending over to pick up some of the thin straight sticks she had selected earlier, she turns around, “these will be the uprights, I just need to make some points on the end of them.” 

She sits down with the pile of sticks and pulls her knife out, taking the first stick and begins to sharpen the end. “So, I’m happy I got the outside walls up,” she grins, “I didn’t think I’d have enough daylight to get it done,” she finishes the first stick and grabs another, “rain or shine, tomorrow this place gets a real roof. The support poles are in place, I just have a to chuck the moss up there. But before that, I want to get a bed made for my partner.” She points behind her, to a pile of pine branches, “I’ve got it all collected, I just need to spread it out and make it comfy.” She bobs her head, “I would imagine hiking for four days they would be pretty tired, so I want that for them. Food, drink and sleep. I want to have everything under control here, so they can rest and relax for a couple of days to recover. If their hike is through this heavy bush,” she shakes her head, “that’s gonna be super challenging.” 

Thunder rumbles loudly, making Tobin instinctively look up. Lightning illuminates her shelter, coming through the plastic tarp and creating a flash of a bright bluish color, making her squint. “Wow!” she says as another loud snap of thunder cracks violently overhead. She leans over, cocking her head listening carefully. “I don’t hear any rain.” She murmurs. She gets up and walks to her door, peering out. She comes back and sits down again. “Nothing. Huh,” she shrugs her shoulders, “hope it holds off.” 

She continues to silently work on her sticks, sharpening the ends and then laying them out flat side by side. She lifts one and measures it against the roof to judge the height. She notches the stick with her knife, then sets it down. She repeats this with all of the sticks and then retrieves her hand saw. She pulls one of the outer rocks from her fire ring, it’s cool enough to touch and she places it in front of her. She gets up on her knees, placing the end of the stick on the rock, carefully looking for her notch and begins to saw. 

The sky continues to light up and the thunder rolls and echoes all around her. 

She gets all of the sticks up and in place and half of the wall is stuffed with long grasses she has gathered. “I think I’m gonna call it a night,” she says, yawning, “time to check the weather.” 

She puts her coat on and walks outside, panning the camera around, lifting it towards the sky to see the lightning light up the area. “Still no rain,” she comments, “but it’s so close,” she says, “maybe a cloud away,” she grins. 

She turns the camera off and brings it back in and sets it on the ground. Then she goes back outside to relieve the call of nature. 

When she comes back, she shakes as she enters, it’s gotten chilly. She kicks off her boots and steps into her slides, quickly changing her clothes, making sure her bear spray and knife are close by. She sets the camera near her as well. 

She snuggles into her sleeping bag, content that the fire will last for a few hours, she knows she’ll be up to pee in a couple of hours anyway. She always has to pee during the night. She settles down, comfy and warm, her last thought is hoping her partner is safe and just as warm as she is. 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, things will start moving in two more chapters- hope y'all can hold out. In four chapters, that's when we really get into it. Updates will come pretty quick as I've almost completed this tale.  
> As soon as the ending is confirmed, I'll set the end chapter number. 
> 
> Thanks again for the comments and the kudos, it does wonders for my spirit! 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. A 2-2 tie? SMH.


	6. Christen: Fun In The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen's frustrated with her lack of progress. The forest presents an intense, physical challenge to her. She makes a judgement call that ends up putting her life in danger.

November 2, 2015 

Day 3 

Christen’s camera pans around an idyllic scene, a soft moving stream, a small grassy patch in the sun, trees in the background. 

“I thought I would just take a break here,” Christen explains, “I need to boil some water, I hardly had any yesterday,” she sets the tripod down a few feet back from where she sits next to a fire. “But now I’m thinking I should camp here,” she says, “there’s fish in this stream and I need some protein and rest up and hydrate.” 

“The closest game trail I’ve seen is about thirty meters downstream, so I don’t think I’d be bothered too much,” she holds up her can of bear spray, “just to be safe, I’ll have this guy very close to me,” 

She uses a stick to gently move her metal cup from the fire, “That’s been boiling for a while now,” she says, “I’ll get this one going and figure out how I’m going to pull a few fish out.” 

 

“This should work,” Christen mumbles then looks up and eyes the camera, “maybe,” shrugs. She holds up a woven mat with a diamond shaped pattern, holes in the bottom to allow the water to run through it. It’s almost two feet wide, anchored with a wooden branch on each side to hold. 

“It’s collapsible, so I’ll take it with me,” Christen explains, “since this stream is shallow, I can stand in it and try to catch some fish that swim past. I may use some rocks to narrow their path,” she stands up and mimics how she’s going to catch her fish. “The trick is to find the best place,” she says, walking over to survey the stream. 

“It’s cool to see how this stream was formed over time from the glacier on the mountain as it melted over the span of thousands of years. You can see how many of these stones have been smoothed over time, the rough edges taken off from the constant water flowing,” she looks up again at the camera, smiling and shaking her head, “okay, that was today’s lecture.” She takes another step closer to the stream. 

“I’m looking to see where the stream narrows naturally, then I’ll start there,” she states, observing the water and then slowly stepping down onto the muddy shoreline. She keeps looking and then carefully steps in, “It’s not too strong of a current,” she comments without looking up, focused on the water, slowly moving into place and standing hunched over, her mat at the ready. She stays frozen in place for a full minute, letting the fish get used to her lower legs in the water before she drops her hands down, pushing the mat into the water, making an arc as she lifts it out in one swift, graceful movement. 

She looks in the mat with disappointment, “Shoot, I thought I had that one,” she says, frowning. She goes to back to work. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Oh,” Christen moans, “this tastes so good,” she says as she bites into the fish, “I forgot how good this tastes over the open the flame,” she murmurs, taking another bite. 

“I ended up catching four fish,” she says, “I’m eating these two little guys now,” she explains, “then I’ll have the others for dinner. I’m going to make a shelter for the night around here somewhere,” 

She looks thoughtful as she eats, “Part of me feels bad setting up camp here,” she admits, “but I really pushed it yesterday and I’m still not out of the woods,” she shakes her head, “good thing the weather held up last night, if it had rained, I’d be miserable.” She had camped out in the open, no shelter having hiked for too long and ran out of daylight to make one.

“I don’t want to push my body to the extreme this early,” Christen says earnestly, “they told me it would be a fifteen to twenty mile hike, but it feels like I’ve already done twenty with how tough this terrain is. It’s so uneven, and it’s incredibly interesting. Passing through multiple little pockets of different ecosystems, like a little area of ferns and mushrooms unlike the others around. A pocket of rocky terrain without trees or a small stand of one type of conifers. How the geology changes due to the plates shifting below, inching up new rocks and minerals from the ground over thousands of years.” 

“This area is very well known for its seismic activity,” Christen smiles shyly at the camera, “I’m totally geeking out about how cool this place is.” 

When she finishes eating, she kneels in front of the camera, “I’ll clean up my cooking mess,” she says, “and then get to work on my shelter for the night.” 

It’s a couple of hours later and Christen is panning the camera around her little camp. 

“So, this is a very basic lean to, I decided on this because it is quick to make, I don’t expend a lot of energy to make it and the resources are close by to make it. My ridge pole goes across these two trees, resting on the low branches, and then I stacked other branches up against it, “she explains, “I put my tarp across it, hanging down a little in front and then covered the backside with pine boughs. Pine boughs on the inside for a padded sleeping area and I’m set.” 

“I don’t think it’ll rain tonight, but the tarp will protect me if it does, and it blocks the wind coming from the west.” 

She places the tripod off to the side, turning the camera so she’s in view and then she sits by the fire. “I hope my partner is doing okay,” she says, picking up a long stick and pushing the branches around in the fire, “I hope they’re not struggling. I hope they’ve got a decent shelter and found a water source and food, I hope they’re not having issues with bears or cougars or anything.” 

She frowns as she pokes at the fire, “I just want to get there,” she says quietly, “I feel a sense of responsibility to get there as fast as I can.”

 

XXXX

 

November 3, 2015 

Day 4 

 

“Ugh,” Christen groans as she finishes folding the tarp, “last night was not good,” she says wryly. “Something was lurking around most of the night,” she says, “I didn’t get much sleep.” She stuffs the tarp into her pack, turning to scan the area. “It was a very noisy night around here,” she explains, “lots of animal traffic, lots of banging on my pots,” she says. “It happens sometimes, especially in the more remote areas, animals get curious, it’s their nature.” 

“We’re all set,” she declares, “time to put on some miles.” She shoulders into her pack, makes sure her knife is strapped to her belt, doublechecks she hasn’t left anything behind and takes a moment to look at her surroundings. 

She points to a small group of rocks near her feet that are formed in the shape of an arrow. “I made this yesterday when I arrived and decided that I would camp here. I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t forget what my direction for today would be.” She kicks the away and begins to walk towards the small stream. 

“It’s just a little life hack that could save you from getting confused by the woods,” she says, holding the camera by the tripod, angled at her as she walks, “it’s happened to me and those even more experienced out in the woods,” 

She walks a little ways down along the shoreline, her eyes scanning, looking at the water. “I think I’ll cross here,” she announces, “this looks like the most shallow, it won’t go over my boots.” She takes a tentative step into the water. “The current can be stronger than you think, so take it easy on your way in,” she warns, “if the current was any stronger, I might use a stick for a little extra support,” she shares, “but this isn’t too string and it’s only about eight feet wide, so we’ll just wing it.” 

She gets across safely, walking up a slight incline, standing before yet another thick stand of trees and foliage. 

She takes a deep breath, “Here we go,” she says, slowly approaching the area, looking for a suitable entrance. 

 

 

November 4, 2015 

Day 5 

 

“This does not look good,” Christen says flatly as she pans up through the trees to show the dark sky. A light rain is falling, the pitter patter heard on the leaves of the trees.   
“I can’t believe I’m still not out of the woods,” Christen complains, “I really thought I’d be there by now,” she says, frowning, bending down to go under a scrubby bush, “but I can catch a glimpse of one of the peaks, so I’m getting closer and pretty on target with my navigation.” 

“Yesterday was rough,” she admits, “I’m pretty tired, but I’ve got to keep moving,” she says as she stops to pick the tree she wants to walk to as her next target, then she steps carefully, the leaves are wet, making it easy to slip. “Again, I didn’t sleep much,” she says, “I usually don’t, not when I’m out in the open like that, just in a basic shelter,” 

She keeps moving forward for an hour until the thunder and lightning really starts kicking in. “This is not the best place to be,” she says worriedly, her eyes darting around looking for cover. “I think I’m going to hunker down near that big patch of trees,” she says determinedly, beginning to walk fast in that direction, “I need to get low and I need to get this pack off me,” 

At her desired spot, Christen quickly shrugs off her backpack, frowning when she sees how wet the material is, she’s hoping it’s not drenched her belongings. 

She lays half her tarp out, squatting down and covering herself with it, pulling in her pack, but keeping the frame on the outside wall against the tarp. She squats and pulls the edge of the tarp under her feet, forming a cover over herself with the sides open. 

She leaves the camera outside on the tripod, continuing to film. 

“The idea here is to make myself as small as possible and the let the trees be the target of any lightning strikes.” She says, “Having your shoes ground you keeps you from getting struck by any currents running through the ground from the larger strikes.” 

After twenty minutes, Christen lifts the tarp, looking aggravated, “This is like trying to hold the world’s longest yoga pose,” she mutters, then drops the flap. She gets an idea and digs into her pack, removing two of her wool sweaters. There’s no buttons or zippers on them so she sits on them, her knees bent and feet on the ground. 

Somehow, through the noise of the storm and the rain pelting her tarp, even through the canopy of the trees, Christen drifts into an uneasy slumber.   
She awakes, stiff and cold, her hands slowly flexing from her tight grasp around her legs. It’s still raining hard, but the thunder seems further in the distance, to her south east. 

She lifts the tarp and is surprised to find darkness surrounding her. Reassured that the worst of the storm has passed, fumbles to find her headlamp, putting it on and illuminating her surroundings. 

Grateful the floor of the tarp was mostly dry except for her muddy boot prints, she pulls out her sleeping bag, shedding her coat, boots and her rain pants. She tosses the damp gear near her pack, sets her boots to her sides and snuggles into her sleeping bag. She pops her head out from under the tarp, seeing the small red light on the camera as it films her. 

“Some may call this a burrito shelter,” she says, “I call this the I’m too tired to do anything else shelter.” She looks around, shaking her head, “Good night.” She disappears under the tarp.

 

November 5, 2015 

Day 6

 

She had risen early, just as the dim sun was lighting the grayish sky, staying at her camp only to boil some tea that she drank as she walked. It’s still raining and she hears the rumble of thunder in the distance, “I hope this blows over,” she mumbles, stopping again to squint in the distance, then she brightens up, “I think it’s opening up ahead,” she says, a small grin appearing on her face, she brushes back the wet curly hair from her face, “if that’s the meadow I saw earlier from the helicopter, then I’m almost there!” She pans the camera on the trees in front of her, showing how they’re backlight by the gloomy sky. 

It’s another half hour before she breaks through from the trees, her excitement deflating when she sees the distance she has to travel. Also, the large river she must cross before she can get to the marsh and climb up the embankment to the trees on the other side. The rain is now steadily coming down, soaking everything. 

“I’m going for it,” she says determinedly, tugging on the straps of her pack, “it’s early enough for me to get across and if it gets too late, I’ll just make a camp up there in the trees,” she reasons. 

 

An hour later, she’s slogging through muck, cattails surrounding her, her boots sinking a couple of inches as she moves slowly through the marsh. “I can hear the river,” she murmurs, popping a piece of the white stem from a cattail in her mouth, “these are so good,” she says as she chews. 

She stops to rest and drink some water as she surveys the river in front of her. It’s about ten feet wide, with a step embankment on each side. From her vantage point, she sees that the river takes a sharp bend, out of her view, about thirty yards up. The ground rises in that direction, the opposite bank looks rocky and the river higher she surmises. 

“This might be the best place to cross,” she murmurs, biting on her lower lip, “ but I’ll scout it out downstream,” she says, “but this may be the best spot.” 

She heads off downstream, pulling bushes back to look at the river, the embankment is growing higher as she moves further down the river. She returns to her spot. 

“This look like the safest place to cross,” she declares, tossing a couple of rocks into the water to gauge the depth. It looks to her to be about waist high. “I really don’t want to strip down to cross this,” she murmurs, thinking aloud, she turns to look behind her, “maybe I could find a log and drag it over,” she unbuckles her backpack, “that’s the plan,” she says, setting her pack on a flat rock, “I’ll see if I can find something around here,” she says, nodding as he scans the floor of the forest, “I’m going to check it out,” 

After a twenty minute search, Christen can’t find a suitable log. They’re all too large for her to move. Disappointed, she returns to her pack, getting it back on and walking upstream, “Guess I need to find another place cross,” she frowns, “I didn’t bring an axe and this time it’s hurting me.” 

In a half an hour she reaches the bend in the river, scanning the flowing the water. There’s another more immediate bend to her right, as the embankment grows higher, showing the remnants of past water marks. There’s an assortment of driftwood and logs on the shoreline at the bottom of the embankment and it looks encouraging to her. 

“Okay,” Christen says, panning her camera to the far bend to her right, “this worries me,” she says over the sound of the rushing water, “this shows evidence of flash floods, and that makes me very nervous.” She slowly pans to the logs and debris on the shoreline, “this is from somewhere upstream.” 

“It’s raining steadily, I’m starting to feel a little chilly, and I haven’t found a safe crossing area except for this,” she says, “there’s red flags against doing this,” she says, “but I haven’t been able to find another place to cross.” She sighs and crosses her arms, frowning as she looks at the water. 

“Upstream, the river widens and gets deeper,” she states, “downstream, the river is narrower and just as deep. This spot, I could use a log and jam it on those rocks,” she points, “but it’s risky if there’s a flash flood upstream. I have to make the decision to go. The longer I wait, the more time I waste.” 

She stands there, examining the river, the logs and how she would consider making it across safely. She imagines how she would make it happen and then moves. 

Slowly, Christen picks her way down to the shoreline, sliding down the muddy embankment. She sets the tripod down, then seeks out the log she thought would be long enough, pulling it through the sandy and slightly muddy shore, before setting it down. She removes her backpack and sets it on a rock, not wanting it to get muddy from the ground. Then she approaches the log, taking hold of it with her gloved hands, angling it perpendicular to the river. She collects a few flat rocks, placing them front of the log to allow her to slide it across the grouping of rocks. 

There are a few large clusters of rocks that she can prop the log up against, letting the force of the current keep it in place as she goes across it. She finagles the log into place, stepping into the water to lift and pull the log onto the first bed of rocks, moving back to give the log a strong push across to the other rocks. It nestles against them perfectly, the bottom third of the log being splashed by the water. She’ll have about a twelve foot span that she’ll be exposed over the rapidly moving river. 

Christen returns to her backpack, picking up the camera, “I’m just going to use the GoPro for this,” she states, clicking it on, “I’ll bring this out after I cross,” she shuts the camera off and tucks it away in the padded zippered pack that’s attached to her backpack. She fastens the tripod on to her pack, making sure it’s secure. Then she gets her pack on her back, shrugging her shoulders as she moves the straps, clicking the straps in, cinching it so it’s secure and getting comfortable. 

“Here goes nothing,” she says, taking her first steps into the water, a hand out when she nears the rock cluster, cautiously scrambling onto the rocks. She grips the log, giving it a twist, satisfied it won’t turn while she’s on it. She stoops over and kneels on a rock, preparing to mount the log and shimmy across. She’s able to get on safely, scooting forward as her thighs grip the log, moving across in small bursts. 

Christen is two thirds of the way across, the second cluster of rocks is about four feet away when she hears an ominous noise, a deep rumbling, getting closer. She does her best to hurry to her pace, scooting across anxiously, fearing the worst. 

Her worst fear is confirmed when she hears the rushing of water, the cracking of branches. She looks to her right, her eyes widening as she sees the rush of water and logs coming at her. She does her best to scurry across the log, frantically moving while trying to maintain her balance and not rock the log too much. 

The noise is loud, a terrific cracking of trees and she glances up to see the water rushing at her. She gets to the rock, sliding off when the debris hits, sending her into the water, sputtering as she comes up for air. Her pack is weighing her down, the water carrying her downstream. A log provides her a respite, grabbing onto to it for a moment to get her breath. She needs to get out of the water, it’s already chilling her to the bone. 

She sees she’s close to the shore, reluctantly leaving the safety of the log and lunging across, painfully hitting her knee on a rock, stumbling forward, scrambling, reaching for anything to grab and pull herself up. The water level is rising, she drags herself to the embankment, crawling through the mud to get to solid ground. 

She’s on all fours, panting as she tumbles over the top, the rain now drenching her, thunder booming in the sky. She’s in shock as she collects herself, realizing she’s in the worst possible situation: wet and without shelter or fire. 

Lightning illuminates the sky, the crack of thunder follows, it’s close to her, so close she hears the cracking of the tree branch. 

That gets her moving. She works herself into a somewhat upright position, she’s hunched over, feeling water drain from her backpack. She flips the hood of her jacket over her head.

_Everything is soaked, I just know it,_ she thinks. 

“I’ve got to move,” she says aloud, looking to the west to orient herself. She’s between the two peaks, marshland in front of her. She sets out at a fast pace, hoping if she keeps working her body she won’t fall into hypothermia. The mud slows her down, but she presses on, unmindful of the leaves and grasses slapping against her, plunging forward into the wet grasslands. 

She keeps her arms moving, forcing them in large circles and up and down and she makes her way through the tall grasses and reeds. She’s desperately trying not to panic, not to let all of the worst case scenarios play out in her head. She’s living it right now. 

“Keep moving, Christen,” she urges herself, moving sluggishly, “just keep moving,” she chants, “keep moving,” 

She braves the elements, wind blowing her hair in her face, her beanie lost in the rush of water, her limbs shivering as she forces herself to keep moving, one step at a time. She continues to slog through, the lower half of her pants caked with mud, her feet nearly numb with cold. In the distance she can see a rise in the marsh, determined to get there and be able to judge where’s she’s at. The surrounding grasses are taller than her, only allowing her to view the two peaks. It’s better than being in the woods and she’s grateful there haven’t been any recent lightning strikes that make her want to jump out of her cold, damp skin. 

She stops momentarily when she climbs a rise, her eyes scanning what lies ahead of her. Dusk is now falling, sending deep shadows from the woods high up the ravine in front of her. She spies a raised outcropping, with what looks like a flag of some sort. She brings her hand up to block the steady rain, squinting, yes, it’s a flag, homemade, yellow in color, flapping in the wind. Knowing that night will come soon, Christen memorizes the outline of the trees above it, knowing the moon will help illuminate them. 

She opens her pack, frowning again at the tear in the side, finding her headlamp and affixing it to her head. She knows she has another hat in her pack somewhere but she doesn’t feel she has the time to look for it, needing to keep moving as her hands shakes. She doesn’t turn it on, instead deciding to wait until the sun sets and sends her into darkness. 

She scrambles down the hill, plunging ahead into the sloppy muck with new vigor in her chilled body, she’s close. She’s getting so close to her partner. Something within her just innately knows that this is a message, a beacon from her partner. 

What may have been a friendly idea to help guide her to the shelter, has now become a life saving buoy to keep her afloat. To dig deep and continue, fight for her very survival. 

She’s still shivering, her legs feel like lead, she’s using all of her might to keep them moving, her breath coming in ragged gasps, both from exertion and being so cold.   
_How incredibly thoughtful,_ she thinks as she moves, tears forming in her eyes, _they’ll never know how much I appreciate this._

She steadies herself, already tired from exertion, but a steely resolve fills her. “I’m not tapping out,” she states, ignoring how her voice chatters. 

 

XXXX

 

She lurches onto the small rise, at the base of where the flag flaps loudly in the wind. Still standing, she collapses against the rise, breathing heavily, thankful to be out of the marsh. She pulls back her glove and looks at her watch, it’s almost midnight. She’s been hiking for over fourteen hours. Feeling so incredibly tired, she cranes her neck, squinting through the rain to look at her next challenge: the embankment. 

It’s slow going as she climbs the slippery slope up, her feet sliding as she tries to get traction. Lightning illuminates the sky, the thunder following immediately, echoing off the mountains. Soon she’s at the top, shaking as she crawls to a nearby tree, using another shrub to pull herself up. 

She scans the area, shocked to see two fresh marks on the trees at the trailhead in front of her. She’s too exhausted to muster any excitement, lurching forward to the path. Tears stream from her eyes as she sees another marked tree, propelling her forward with strength she didn’t know she possessed. 

She follows the trail, staggering with each step, crying harder with marking she sees. She spies a crudely made arrow, directing her off the trail, into the woods. She must be close now. 

“Help!” she cries out, moving on unsteady legs, “Please help!” 

Mustering everything in her, Christen drags herself along, finding another tree with the fresh mark, “Help!” she yells, hoping whoever is near can hear her over the raging storm. 

At each marked tree, Christen leans against it, yelling for help. She decides if she doesn’t hear a response at this tree, she’s going to get the satellite phone and tap out. She knows she can’t last out here much longer, she’ll die. 

Then she hears a reply. “I’m over here!” comes across faintly through the rain. 

“Help me!” Christen cries out desperately, her legs dropping to the ground, leaving her kneeling against the tree, total exhaustion overtaking her. 

“Keep moving straight ahead,” the voice instructs, getting louder, closer, “I’m coming towards you! Can you see my light?” 

“I can’t!” Christen wails mournfully. She’s shaking uncontrollably. 

“Keep talking!” The voice shouts, “I’ll come to you!” 

“I’m next to a tree that’s marked!” Christen takes a couple of deep breathes before answering back, “Please come get me!” she pleads, her sobs breaking up her words. 

“I’m coming!” the female voice assures her, “Keep talking!” 

“Please find me!” Christen pleads. She tiredly lifts her head, relief flooding her when she sees a headlamp bobbing in the woods, getting closer. 

“I’m coming!” the voice calls out, strong and very close.


	7. Tobin's Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We follow Tobin as she continues her work on finishing the shelter. The weather is turning and she rushes to get as much prepared as possible before the rain hits. 
> 
> She's awakened by a strange dream, then realizes the cries for help are coming from outside in the thunderstorm. Tobin heads into the darkness to find the frantic voice who needs her help.

November 5, 2015 

Day 6

 

Tobin got up, adding more wood to fire and putting on a pot of water to warm up, got dressed in layers and went to pee. She comes back, taking off her layers, feeling the warmth of the fire, pouring out some water into her fry pan. She gets her washcloth and begins doing a quick bath. It helps warm her and even though she knows it’s not close to being clean with a shower, she does feel better. She considers using her tarp for the smoker to make a mini sweat lodge in here after she’s done smoking the fish. 

She gets her microphone and power pack, running the cord under her shirt and attaching the pack to her belt. She changes out the tapes in the cameras, ready to head to shore, and have them ready to meet the crew when they stop by. She checks the battery levels and makes sure they’re good for the day. This is her morning routine. 

She gathers her items she thinks she’ll need with her down by the cove, wanting to be around when the crew comes. Most times, she was off working on her shelter and she missed their visit. They won’t come looking for her until they have the medical team with to check on her vitals. 

Before she leaves her shelter for the morning, she makes a notch in her cool stick, indicating Day 6. She thinks today is the first medical visit. Maybe she can find out about her partner and their progress getting here. 

She stops and brings down her pot of stew, wanting something to eat quick and start her day. The weather makes her nervous and she wants to get her roof completed. She sees the storm front is still just to her north, sliding behind her. The sky looks like a wall of grey. Some parts are darker than others, she just hopes it stays away and slides past her. 

She’s able to start her fire at the kitchen while warily looking over her shoulder after finding some bear prints on the shore. She makes as much noise as possible, yelling out ‘hey bear’ and clanging her pots together. 

She repositions her eating log so it’s facing the shore, her back to the water, wanting to keep an eye on her surroundings. She leaves at least half the pot full of stew for her partner, hoping today is the day they meet. 

After she eats, she takes a walk along the shore, finding the torn remnants of a yellow inflatable raft. “I really hope this wasn’t needed,” she mumbles, trying to dispel the dark thoughts of sailors in danger and this raft failing to stay afloat. 

It’s not much material, but an idea comes to Tobin’s mind. She sticks it in the back of her mind and begins to clean up her kitchen for the morning. 

 

XXXX

 

She’s got half of the support poles up on the roof when she notices the shelter bows a little. “I guess I’m going to have to put in a support pole,” she frowns, hating that she didn’t think to do it before she started. She sighs with frustration, thinking this will set her behind, wondering how she can put in a support with the roof already on. 

She goes into the shelter, staring at the ridge pole. The answer comes to her and she immediately heads to her wood pile, hoping she has a 6” diameter log she can use. She doesn’t have any in there, but she might outside still from the trees she hasn’t processed yet. 

She finds one and begins to strip the branches off, working carefully with her hand axe. Once she gets the tree free of limbs, she drags the log to the entrance of her shelter, laying it out and then entering her shelter. She uses a length of cording to measure how long her log needs to be and returns outside to notch the wood with her measurement. She cuts the log with her handsaw, making sure the top is as level as possible. 

“Now, very carefully,” Tobin says, “I’m going to notch this pole with a slight indentation so the ridge pole can sit in it.” She eyes the camera, “Mom, I’m going to be very careful. I promise. You too Mark. And Jill.” 

She looks around and finds a few rocks, setting them together to lay the top of the pole on them, keeping it off the ground, while she makes the notch. She gets the log in place, straddling the pole to keep it steady. She looks at the camera, holding her hands and wiggling her fingers, “I have ten of these and I hope to keep it that way.” She smirks and wiggles her eyebrows and then picks up her hand axe. 

Slowly she chips away at the top of the log, making an inward curve for the ridge pole to rest on. After she has it roughed out, she uses her knife to smooth the uneven edge inside her curve. Satisfied it will work, she drags the log into her shelter, setting it down and then going to her wood pile. She selects eight more straight sticks, they’re all about four feet high so she sits down near her fire and again makes sharp points on one end of each one. 

She goes back outside to retrieve her axe, shaking her head at the camera, “Always know where your axe is,” she frowns at herself, “I’m in camp, so it’s okay, but I need to remember to always keep my tools with me when I’m done using them. Maybe I’ll make some hooks or something so I can hang them on the wall.” 

It takes her a couple of tries to get her support pole lined up the ridge pole, pushing it in place and using the flat end of her hand axe to pound it in place. “I want to make sure this stays in place, so I’m going to drive these stakes around it and then use some cording to tie it together. Then I can get back to the roof supports.” 

Once she gets the stakes in place, she uses her knife to notch them evenly and runs the cording around it a few times to secure it in place. “That should be pretty stable.” She says approvingly. She tries to shake it and it doesn’t move. “Sweet!” she smiles. She takes a deep breath, “Okay, on to the roof.” 

 

XXXX

 

“So, I don’t know if you can see it,” Tobin says, “but I put six thinner logs up there to hold down all of the pine branches. They go cross wise, just like the main ridgepole, but I used cording and strung them together to keep them in place. Hopefully that will keep everything in place when the winds pick up.” She lifts the camera high to pan around and show off the roof and how she constructed it. 

“So, while I was doing that, I was thinking,” she stops speaking, cocking her head to the side, “I hear a boat,” she says, interrupting herself, “I should head down there,” she says hurriedly, “the medical team is supposed to come today.” 

“This is the first time they’re here,” she says as she walks her path to the cove, “it’ll be nice to actually speak to another human for a little bit.” She smiles at the camera, “I was starting to get lonely.” 

She waves as she makes it to the cove, the boat just turning in and slowing down. She stands at the water’s edge, arms crossed, waiting as they slowly pull in and drop anchor, a team of three people making their way to the shore. 

“Hey guys,” Tobin says, smiling broadly, “how’s it going?” 

“Good, Tobin,” Lisa replies, “you’re looking good,” 

“Feeling good,” she nods, “so, what’s going on?” 

“You remember Tori from the medical team, right? You met during the meeting,” Lisa introduces a tall dark haired woman. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, extending her hand, “good to see you again,” she says as they shake hands. 

“We’re going to do a quick check up and then get out of your hair.” Tori replies, “How are you feeling?” 

“Pretty good,” Tobin answers, “I’ve been super lucky getting food, and really working on drinking a lot of water,” 

Rob, the captain of the boat and one of the rescue response guys looks around, “How’s it been?” he spies the bear tracks and looks at her. He’s got a camera as well, panning on the area. 

“Decent,” Tobin replies, “only a couple of run ins, nothing aggressive.” 

“Why don’t you show us around and we check out your shelter and Tori can do her check up there, huh?” Lisa suggests. 

Tobin grins, “Sure thing,” she smiles, “follow me,” 

Tobin shows them her kitchen area, her smoker set up, the stream where the fish are still running. She takes them up her path to the shelter area, proudly showing them her completed living area. 

“You did this already?” Rob asks, clearly impressed, as he pans his camera on the shelter.

“Yeah, well, with the abundance of food I’ve been lucky enough to get,” Tobin says, “I figured to push to get it set up while I have the energy.” 

“Smart thinking,” Tori comments, nodding approvingly. “Okay, let’s get started, have a seat.” 

Tori takes Tobin’s temperature, blood pressure, reads her pulse, then gets out a scale for her to step on. A wave of nervousness washes over Tobin as she looks down as the reading for body fat calculates. It beeps. 9.4 percent. She’s good. 

“Excellent.” Tori nods, jotting down the results. 

Tobin sighs with relief, then looks at Lisa, “So, my partner is still out there in the bush?” she questions. 

“Yes, your partner is still hiking.” Lisa confirms, “That’s all I can tell you.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, “just curious,” she says, “and getting a little worried.” 

“You’re still in the game,” Lisa assures her, “that’s really all I can say.” 

“Cool,” Tobin nods.

“Cameras running okay for you?” Rob asks, looking over her equipment cases. 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies, “no problems yet.” 

“Be sure you keep checking that the lens is clean,” he reminds her. 

“We should head out,” Lisa states, looking at her watch. 

Tobin walks with them to the cove, watching as they load themselves on the boat and then watches as the boat pulls out and disappears. 

“Well,” she says at the camera, “that was that,” she walks along the shore, kicking at rocks, “I passed my first physical, yay me.” She gives a wry grin. 

She stands still, looking out at the water, “Guess I should get back to it.” 

“With the rains coming, I want to build a drying rack,” Tobin explains, panning her camera to the branches lying before her and then setting it down, making sure the image is clear and includes herself in it, “I’m going to have to push to get as much dry wood as possible before this rain comes,” and just as if on cue, a loud crack of thunder rumbles in the background. 

“I’ve got everything ship shape in the back room, I want to make this rack and then finish up insulating the back room wall.” She scratches her chin as she looks around, “I’m wondering if I should insulate this rock wall, I don’t think it radiates the heat of the fire into the main room.” She quirks her mouth, “I’ll have to ask my pro partner when they get here.” 

“This afternoon, I’m going to go out and explore my area more. See if I can find some wild edibles, maybe get some more cat tails.” She says as she begins to arrange the sticks, “I’m pretty limited in my knowledge of what type of plants are safe to eat, but I know some.” 

As she works she continues to talk, “I want to look in the cove, see if anything usable washed up, if I can get another container, then I’ll plan to get more fish and smoke them.” 

She uses her hand axe to pound four sticks in a rectangle around her fire pit, “The cool thing about living off the land is that there’s always room to learn more. It’s just like soccer, you can never know enough, there’s always someone out there who can teach you something new.” She eyes her upright sticks, “You just gotta have to the drive to want to be better.” 

 

“And there it is,” Tobin says, the pride in her voice evident, “my first drying rack.” She sets a bundle of thin sticks on the shelf she made, spreading them out so they can dry out from the heat of the fire below. It’s high enough so there’s no danger of them catching ablaze, yet close enough to absorb the warmth of the fire. There’s another shelf above it to store the dried out wood. 

“When the rains come, I can spend my day in here splitting wood,” Tobin says, “maybe I’ll stack it along the rock, that might insulate it a little. Leave a little room for the water to run off from the rock.” 

“I saw on the thermometer that it’s forty degrees out right now,” she says, “but it’s fifty-five in here, and that’s with just this little fire going,” she comments, “I made my rack high, so I can safely have a larger fire when the temperature really starts to drop.” 

“I’m going to make an insulated door that I can just lift and move for the entrance, even though I have the windbreak in front of it, I want to enclose this place. I’m going to gather the pine boughs for it and make it in here tonight. Now, I want to take a little hike and check things out.” 

Tobin gathers what she thinks she’ll need. She stuffs the yellow raft material in there, some cording and fills her water bottle, taking the water she boiled from her pot. “I’ll go the stream and fill the pot again when I get back,” she says, grabbing her handsaw, the hand axe and checking her belt that her knife is there. “If I find some more cat tails and any else to eat, I’ll throw them in my backpack.” She makes sure to loop the bear spray on her backpack, keeping it within reach. 

She heads makes sure her fire is smoldering and won’t flare up before she leaves. “I want to get more of those grasses too,” she begins to walk, “there’s always something to do, something to improve your situation,” she says as she carefully walks through the sparse underbrush near her shelter. “I want to find that deer path,” she nods, holding the camera on the tripod as she walks, “I took that to where I found the cattails. I think it opens up more into a marshy like prairie, I’m not sure though.” 

She keeps walking, her eyes scanning the ground, occasionally yelling out ‘hey bear’ to make some noise. “And this,” she pans the camera on the ground, “this would be bear scat.” She frowns, “It’s the reality of where I’m at,” 

“Hey!” she exclaims a few minutes later, “Here’s the cattails!” she walks over to grove of the tail plants, “These are super cool because this top part I’ll save as tinder for fires, the low part, by the root, that’s edible,” she yanks one out of the watery ground, “and it tastes pretty good too,” 

She takes out her knife and lops the top off, stuffing it into her jacket pocket. Then she cuts the stalk, grabbing the low area. She stands up and looks around, smiling when she sees a low rise to her right. She heads over there and sits down, taking off her backpack. 

“That sky looks terrible,” she comments, looking straight before her, “it looks like it’s pouring halfway through this open area,” she works the cover off the stem she has, revealing a white stalk. “This is good, it’s kind of sweet.” 

She eats two of the stems, drinks some water and then opens her pack and removes the yellow raft material. The material measures roughly six feet by eight feet. 

“I was thinking this might be cool to signal my partner the way to come,” she says, “this side has grommets, so I’ll make a flag and put it on a stick so they can see it across this prairie or marsh or whatever this is.” 

She spreads the material out on the dry ground, judging the size and begins to cut it down. Then she walks over to some trees, inspecting each of the young saplings for their sturdiness before selecting one. She uses her hand axe to chop it down and knock off the branches. Using some cording, she lashes the material to the stick, holding it high, shouting “PTFC!” as she swings it around. 

She laughs and sets the flag down, returning to the small rise. “I want to put this where it will be easy to see,” she says, judging the area. “You know,” she nods, “I’m going to take a look from a distance,” she turns around and slowly walks into the high grass marshy area, her boots sinking a little with each step. 

She treks out about thirty meters, turning back to look at the opening, nodding her head, “I guess that little rise is the best place for it,” she murmurs, sniffing her nose, tugging her beanie lower on her head and walking back. She collects more cattails on the way back, liking how they taste and deciding to keep them in the shelter as an easy snack. 

After jamming the stick into the soft ground, Tobin find some rocks to place around it to help keep it in place. “Huh,” she says, looking at the rock on her hand, “these would be good for boiling.” She looks around, “This would be good to keep warm at night,” she picks up a flattish large round stone. 

“I’m pretty sure these are soapstone,” she says, “and they’re dry,” she holds up the rock to the camera, “wet rocks, when heated can explode and that’s not cool,” She gathers a few more, loading her backpack with rocks and the cattails. 

“Argh!” she groans as she lifts the pack, slinging on her back and slipping her arms through the straps, “this is heavy,” she says, grabbing the camera, “time to head back and eat lunch,” she states, “on the way, I want to clearly mark the trail so my partner can follow it easily.” 

Before she enters the forest, she marks two trees, one on each side of the path, scraping the bark off a section of the trunk about five feet from the ground. She turns to look over the marsh, “I think the rain is coming,” she comments, turning and heading down the deer path. 

She stops every ten meters or so to mark a tree on the right side of the trail, making sure to keep it at eye level and clear any branches so it can be easy visible. 

When she approaches the spot where she leaves the deer path, Tobin stops to take a drink of water and contemplate how to proceed. “Ooh! I got it!” she exclaims, shrugging off her pack and setting it on the ground. She finds a couple of large downed limbs, cracking off two sections and sets one across the path. Next, she breaks the other branch into two pieces, adding them to the top to make an arrow. Whoever is on the trail will certainly see the branches clearly indicating the direction. 

She gets the back pack on and finds the first tree and marks it. She marks the next one about five meters down and keeps marking them until she’s returned to her shelter. 

“Okay,” she says as she shrugs off her pack, “that will show them the way here.” She pulls the rocks out and places them near the fire ring, not in it, just next to it to warm them slowly. 

“Lunch time,” she says, “then clean up and dry wood search before the rain comes.” 

 

XXXX

 

“I think that’s a pretty good start on my wood pile,” Tobin comments, looking over to the rock wall that has a stack about a foot and a half high with split wood. It runs about eight feet long. “I think I’ll turn in early tonight, maybe this rain will hold off, but if not, I’ve got plenty of things to do.” 

She pans her wood room, it’s stacked with branches and larger pieces of logs. “This will be a good start,” she says, “all of this will get cut down and go on the drying rack and eventually get stacked in the main room.”

She unties her boots, slipping her feet in her sandals, unzips her Gor-Tex weather pants, revealing leggings beneath. She sits on her little log, balancing as she changes her socks, hanging her dirty ones off the drying rack. “I should do some laundry tomorrow,” she murmurs, yawning as she removes her sweater. She stands and goes to her large backpack, poking around and finding her sweatshirt, turning her back as she removes her sports bra, glancing to make sure she’s off camera. 

She fills her metal water bottle with fresh water, fills her mug with some as well, ready to go in the morning for her pine tree tea. Bear spray, knife, camera, headlamp, boots. Those items are next to her as she beds down. Her fire is a nice medium height, enough to last for a few hours to keep her warm. 

She unzips her sleeping bag, shaking it out as a precaution if any critters decided to hang out, and then sets it back down on her bed of pine boughs. She sits and swivels her legs, her camera still running, and zips up. 

“Good night,” she says sleepily as the wave of tiredness from her busy day hits full force. It doesn’t take long for her to sleep. 

Tobin dreams. She dreams she’s in a grocery store, which is weird because she usually buys her stuff online and has it delivered. But she’s in a store, surrounded by a display of hundreds of apples and she wants to eat one but she can’t decide between a Fiji or a MacIntosh and someone keep calling out her name. 

The two tone doorbell sound goes off indicating that the water spray on the produce is coming and instead of the gentle hiss she hears a deafening crack of thunder and the roar of heavy rain. 

“Help!” she hears again, turning from the apples to look for the source. She can’t see anyone who looks like they’re looking for her. She turns back to the apples and they now have little faces on them and they’re crying and calling out for help over and over. 

“Help!” she hears once more, and suddenly she sits up, blinking and aware that she’s in her shelter. 

“What a dream,” she shakes her head, yawning. 

“Help!” she hears, it’s a female voice from outside. 

“Hey there!” Tobin yells back, scrambling to get up, slipping on her Gor-Tex pants, shoving her feet in her rubber boots and grabbing her jacket. 

“I’m here!” she yells as she pulls up the hood of her jacket, setting her headlamp around it and turning it on. She slips her GoPro on as well, making sure it’s on as she leaves her shelter. 

“I’m over here!” she yells above the heavy rain, scanning for any movement or light. 

“Help me!” the female calls once more, to the east, from along her marked path. 

“Keep moving straight ahead,” Tobin instructs, “I’m coming towards you! Can you see my light?” 

“I can’t!” the voice yells back, Tobin can hear the desperation in the tone. 

“Keep talking!” She shouts, “I’ll come to you!” Tobin begins to walk carefully, wishing she had a powerful flashlight with her. 

“I’m next to a tree that’s marked!” the stranger answers back, “Please come get me!” she pleads, it sounds like she’s crying. 

“I’m coming!” Tobin assures her, “Keep talking!” 

“Please find me!” Tobin hears as she frantically searches, finally seeing a flash of a headlamp, “I’m coming!” 

She sees a form as lightning flashes, a woman kneeling and leaning against a tree. Her red jacket soaked, a hood up not allowing Tobin to see her face. 

“Hey,” Tobin says breathlessly, “can you walk?” 

The hood moves with a negative shake. Tobin steps forward and kneels in front of her. “I got you,” she says, “let’s go, we’ll get you dry and warm.”

Tobin searches to unclip the backpack from around her waist, easing the shoulder straps off and letting the pack fall to the ground next to them. 

Tobin uses both hands to help the woman, getting her standing on wobbly legs, she stands and swiftly lifts her, carrying her bridal style in her arms as she moves through the brush back to the shelter. 

When Tobin gets her in the shelter, she sets her down on the bedding she made for her partner, keeping a hand on her to hold her in a sitting position. 

“Let’s take off your jacket, okay?” Tobin suggests for softly, “we got to get you warmed up,” 

The woman pulls the hood off her jacket and the first thing Tobin can see in the dim firelight is a mass of wet curly black hair. Tobin focuses on getting the jacket off, tossing it to the side of the bed, knowing she will put her in her sleeping bag. She assumes the woman’s stuff is soaked. She quickly shed her own jacket, using one hand to help her stay upright. 

“Can you stand on your own?” Tobin questions with her hand still on the woman’s elbow. 

She shakes her head in reply, a soft hiccup of a sob escaping her lips. 

“Okay, it’s okay,” Tobin says warmly, “I’m going to get you some dry clothes, I’ll be right back.” 

Tobin quickly moves to her backpack, pulling out her warmest fleece pants, wool socks, a lined undershirt and sweatshirt. She fetches her towel from where she had it hung near the fire, thankful it feels slightly warm to touch. 

When she turns to the woman, she watches as she weakly struggles getting out of her wet sweater. 

Tobin kneels before her, “Let me,” she says softly, taking the material in her hands and removing it. She does the same with her undershirt and sports bra, keeping her head up and trying to make eye contact with the stranger. The woman won’t look at her. 

“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” Tobin asks, ducking her head down to make eye contact. 

The woman shakes her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, “it’ll be okay, you’ll get warmed up,” 

Tobin gently dries her skin with the towel as the woman shivers uncontrollably and then slides her softest undershirt on her, then her sweatshirt. 

“If you lie back, we can shimmy your pants off,” Tobin suggests quietly. She moves slow, feeling that quick movements would startle her. She treats her gently. She bends down and works her boots off her, sucking in air through her teeth when she feels how cold her feet are when she touches them after getting her socks off. 

She keeps her focus, respecting how vulnerable this woman must feel, guiding her clothing off, not letting her eyes roam across her skin, although she does notice the beginning of a nasty bruise on her knee. Soon she has her dressed, hearing a sigh of relief from the silent woman. Tobin rolls her thick wool socks onto her icy feet. 

“Um,” Tobin kneels there awkwardly, “my name’s Tobin, what’s your name?” 

The woman slowly raises her head and Tobin’s eyes meet with a pair of greyish, tear filled eyes, “My name is Christen,” she says quietly, her shuddering receding to a steady shiver, “Christen Press.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, ask and ye shall receive- looking at you Wolfgang! 
> 
> A few things- again, thanks for the comments, even though this story is nearly completed (already around 20+ chapters!) it's great to get your feedback. Prepping these already written chapters gives me the chance to help mold the story even more and I really like that it allows me to post rapidly. 
> 
> Also, this is the end of the split chapters- from here on out, it's Christen and Tobin together. Which is awesome- writing those chapters like that was admittedly, kind of tough. 
> 
> This chapter is rather important in that it gives you as much of a picture of the shleter that i can explain. The work Tobin puts into it, hopefully gives you a mental image of what it looks like in my mind.It also shows Tobon's concern and preparations for her partner she hasn't yet met, but her team mentality drives her to work hard for her parnter. 
> 
> Lastly- who else misses the Department of Defense? What a clusterfuck- going once again to the three back? I was waiting for Tobin to move to RB. 
> 
> Anyhow, hope you enjoy-   
> MT


	8. Nerves and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin continues t care for Christen after her ordeal. Christen continues to be an emotional mess. 
> 
> The next day, they begin to figure things out between themselves.

November 5, 2015 

Day 6/Late Night 

“Hi, Christen, I’m Tobin,” she replies, “how about we get you warmed up in my sleeping bag and I’ll make you some tea, huh?” she gives her a soft smile. She realizes this is the beauty she saw at the Bucksnort six days ago. 

Christen nods, “Sounds good,” she chatters as she shivers. Christen can’t believe that Tobin Fucking Heath is kneeling before her, taking care of her. 

“Okay then,” Tobin says, “let me help you up, yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” Christen replies, “so cold,” she shivers. 

Tobin mostly carries her to her bedding, Christen weak and uncoordinated from being so cold. She gets her settled in, carefully zipping up the sleeping bag. 

Tobin turns and kneels near the fire, adding some wood to get it going to heat up the shelter. She has her mug ready for her morning tea, so she sets it close to the fire, letting it warm up. She retrieves some pine buds from her stash and adds them to the mug, dropping five in and stirring it with a stick. 

She turns to look at Christen, “I’m going to go out and get your pack, I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay,” Christen replies, “thank you,” 

“Try to stay awake,” Tobin suggests, “I want you to drink some tea, it will help.” 

“I will,” Christen nods, snuggling in the sleeping bag. 

“Oh,” Tobin stops before she leaves, redirecting herself to her pack, retrieving a few items and approaching Christen. “Here,” she offers her a hat, “put this on, okay?” She squats and places it on Christen’s head and gives her a smile, “That will help,” she then unfolds two sweaters and lays them on the sleeping bag, hoping to give her more warmth. 

“Thanks,” Christen replies, “so much,” 

Tobin nods as she pulls her hood up, affixing her headlamp and turning it on leaving the shelter going out into the woods. 

Christen lays there, snuggled in the sleeping bag, her body quaking with cold. She lets her eyes roam over her surroundings, taking in the fire ringed with rocks, a flat rock on one side, the mug warming up on it, not fully in the fire. She looks up to see drying rack over the fire, a proper height, allowing for the fire to be larger and still be fine. She sees the neatly stacked wood spread on the top, nodding approvingly at the variety of small kindling sticks and quarter logs that are drying out on the rack. 

_Neat and organized,_ she thinks, drifting to look at the other sleeping section, it’s up off the ground a little and then there’s a pile of pine boughs spread on top. 

She sees how Tobin constructed the roof, using a sturdy ridgepole, surprised to see the support in the middle, nodding to herself how she separated the shelter, curious as to what was in the other side. Impressed with what Tobin has accomplished, she looks back up at the ceiling, seeing how Tobin made a series of supports across the short sides, it looks to her as if she used too many to just support a tarp. Then she listens for a moment. She doesn’t hear the rain hitting the tarp. She must have something over it, she figures. Damn, she put in a lot of work for six days. 

I hope she’s gotten enough food to eat, Christen worries, hoping that Tobin didn’t just shoot out of the gates, expending so much energy to create this and is suffering with not having anything to eat. She chews on the inside of her mouth, I’ll have to ask her. 

She considers how calm Tobin was, not panicking when she had her hands full of her in distress. She knew what to do, how to provide her with the proper steps to combat hypothermia. She remembers how Tobin held her eyes on Christen’s face while she dressed her, not looking at her naked body. She wonders if she did that to make her comfortable or if she’s really not into chicks. 

_Don’t be a dumbass,_ Christen chides herself, _it’s not like I’m suddenly going to have a love connection with Tobin Heath here in the woods. She could be seeing someone anyway, you don’t know a thing about her private life._

She thinks on that, how private Tobin is. She doesn’t post much on social media, you don’t hear much about her around Portland, partying it up anywhere, except when it’s a team event. She is rather mysterious. 

 

XXXX 

 

 

The rain is coming down in sheets, the wind whipping through the trees. Thunder continues to roll, lightning flashing and illuminating the area. Tobin retraces her steps to find Christen’s pack, slinging it over one of her shoulders and quickly moving away. She flinches with each lightning strike, she’s never heard thunder so consistently loud. 

_I don’t think I’ve ever been under such a fierce storm,_ she thinks. 

She reaches her food storage area, untying the line and squinting through the rain as she slowly brings down her pot of fresh fish stew. Pleased she had the forethought to do this. If there ever was a time a quick meal was needed, it is right now. 

_I can’t believe Christen is the woman from the bar,_ she thinks as she walks back to the shelter, _what a wild coincidence._

She shakes herself off when she enters the shelter, bringing the pot over to the fire, kneeling and unlocking the lid. She rakes the embers and hot coals, edging the pot onto them so it can begin to warm up. 

The tea is now just starting simmer so Tobin grabs the mug with her gloved hand and sets it down near the bed. 

“It’s still super hot,” she says, wanting to say something, but not knowing exactly what. “I’ve brought some fish stew to heat up, are you hungry?” 

“Starving,” Christen replies, finding her voice now, “thank you so much,” 

“No problem,” Tobin grins easily, “I’ve actually been kind of prepping for your arrival,” she admits, “this was the worst case scenario, so I’m glad I was ready.” 

“So am I,” Christen says gratefully, she shivers as she lies on her side, “I’m so cold,” 

Tobin doesn’t ask about how Christen has arrived here in this condition, wanting her to bring it up if she wants to talk about it. 

With that, Tobin gets up, going to her outer gear, bringing over her light weight jacket and a couple of more sweaters, gently placing them over her. 

“That tea should be cool enough to drink now,” Tobin says, “can you sit up?” 

“I think so,” Christen nods, slowly moving into the sitting position. She’s not shivering anymore, just chilled to the bone. 

“Put my coat on or one of my sweaters, okay?” Tobin offers. Christen nods and pulls the coat over her shoulders. 

Tobin hands her the gloves, “The mug might still be a bit hot,” she shrugs, “be careful,” 

Tobin swivels on her knees and turns her attention to the fire, stoking it and adding a few more small logs to it. She wants to build it more than she normally has, she wants   
Christen to be warm. She lifts the lid of the pot by sliding a stick under the handle, using her spoon to stir the contents around. 

“So,” she begins, “this has a bit of everything in it,” she states, “some rockfish, limpets, kelp, and maybe some crab, I can’t remember,” she looks over her shoulder at Christen, “I just kept adding stuff.” 

Christen gives her a small smile, “The kelp was a good idea,” she says quietly, “lots of nutrients.” 

Tobin stands and begins to remove the sticks on her drying rack, setting them against the rock and clears it off, wanting to leave it bare so she can set Christen’s belongings on there to dry them. She notices her camera is still running. She looks and sees that the angle has captured them near the fire as it faces Tobin’s bed area on an angle. She knows it   
hasn’t recorded Tobin helping Christen change her clothes. 

Tobin flashes Christen a quick smile as picks up Christen’s clothes, wringing them out near the entrance and walking over and hanging them on the rack. She goes back to her own pack and retrieves her coil of cording, tying off one end and running it across the width of the shelter on the support poles, above and behind the drying rack. She then doubles the lines and then triples it for good measure. 

She hangs Christen’s jacket on the line along with her sweater, undershirt, leggings and pants. She spreads her Nike Pros and sports bra on the rack, along with her socks. Her socks are soaked, so Tobin gets Christen’s boots, removing the wet liners and setting them on the rack and turning the boots upside down and leaning them against the uprights on the rack. She makes sure to leave them towards the sides so the material won’t melt from the heat of the fire. 

When she finishes, Tobin lifts the lid of the stew with a stick and stirs the contents. Smoke is coming from the pot, she knows it’s hot enough to eat. “If you don’t mind me going in your pack,” Tobin says tentatively, “I can get your cookware so I can put this in something that’s not blazing hot,” Tobin offers. 

“You’re my partner,” Christen smiles at her, wanting to set her at ease, she seems so nervous, “my stuff is your stuff,” 

Tobin smiles broadly at her, “Well, then I’m going to check out all of my new stuff, okay?”

Christen nods and gives her a grin, again, those greyish eyes now showing a hint of amusement. 

Tobin brings the pack near the fire, sitting down on one of the short stumps she uses as a seat, the pack in between her legs. 

“You didn’t have a hard case for your camera gear?” she questions.

“No,” Christen replies, “they gave me only three cameras, a GoPro and two like that one.” She points to the one on the tripod. “They’re in a zippered case.” 

Tobin unstraps the tripod off the side of the pack, “It’s different than mine,” she comments, “this is cool.” She unstraps the bag of camera gear, checking it quickly to see that it’s dry and sets it aside, opening the main pack and removing wet clothes and finding Christen’s cooking gear. She notices the torn side of her pack but doesn’t say anything. Christen still looks shell shocked to her so she won’t bring it up. She kneels forward and hands Christen the mug and spoon and watches as she pours some of the stew in it and begins to eat. 

“Most of your clothes are wet,” Tobin comments, “I’ll hang those to start drying them.” 

“Okay,” Christen frowns, looking away, suddenly feeling very foolish for all that has happened. 

“Hey,” Tobin says softly, “it’s okay,” 

Christen shakes her head, “I’m supposed to be the pro,” she says, “I made a series of stupid mistakes and now all of my stuff is soaked.” 

Tobin shrugs, “Stuff happens,” she says, “I’ve got some clean clothes you can wear and maybe you can do stuff in here and I can do outside stuff,” she reasons, “then, when you’re up to it, we can tackle whatever we want.” 

Christen glances around, “Looks like you’ve done everything,” she frowns. 

Tobin shakes her head, “There’s a ton of wood that needs to be cut,” she explains, “I think we could use a second door to keep the heat in this area, I’d like to make a place to hang our gear and get it off the floor, maybe the raise the beds even more,” she grins at her, “there’s a million things to do that are important,” 

“But you’ll be burning more calories and need more food,” Christen protests, “we should share the load,” 

Tobin smiles at her, “I’ve got a load of smoked fish,” she beams, “I caught the late salmon run, they might still be running,” 

“I don’t know,” Christen says, unconvinced. She’s eaten two mugs of stew, finishing it and drank her tea and some water from Tobin’s water bottle. She slides onto the bed and snuggles back in the sleeping bag, not as chilled as before but exhausted. 

“How about we talk more tomorrow,” Tobin suggests diplomatically, seeing how tired Christen looks, “when you’re warmed up and have had a good night’s sleep.” 

“My mind is racing,” Christen replies truthfully, “I don’t know if I can even sleep,” 

“Well,” Tobin says, “how about you tell me what you’re worrying about while I get the rest of your stuff set up to start drying?” She shrugs, “I usually journal my thoughts before bed, maybe you talking them out will help,” 

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Christen sighs, closing her eyes, a shiver jarring her in the sleeping bag. 

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Tobin offers, “I’m going to do my thing and you just say whatever’s on your mind,” She rises from her log and moves to the wood pile against the rock. 

She starts to move some of the wood that’s behind the fire ring, stacking the pieces to the left and right of it. 

“I’m so pissed at myself,” Christen states quietly, “for putting myself in such a stupid position. I should have stayed where I was and tried to get a fire started after I fell in the river, but I thought I was much closer to you. I shouldn’t have kept going, but I figured if I kept moving, I wouldn’t get hypothermia.” 

Tobin has her back to Christen but she can feel eyes on her and she nods as she listens. She doesn’t want to interrupt or interject her opinion while Christen is speaking. She continues to unroll Christen’s clothing, placing them on the stacked wood, letting them hang over to air out and dry. 

“I teach survival classes,” Christen laments, “I let my pride and ego get in the way,” she sighs. “My actions were a textbook example of exactly what you shouldn’t do. Just how I wanted to portray myself on this show.” 

Tobin feels bad, she wants to reassure her, but her gut says to let her continue. She suspects that Christen is being too hard on herself, just a gut feeling she has. She unfurls Christen’s wet sleeping bag, happy that it’s not completely soaked. She drapes it over the very top of the drying rack and extends the material to the wood pile, using a piece of wood to secure each corner. 

“Now you’re having to take care of me,” Christen says, her voice a little uneven with emotion, “and you won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight because all of my wet stuff is on my bed.” 

Tobin stops moving for a second. Satisfied that the sleeping bag is secure, she silently moves and grabs the towel near Christen. She sits down on her log and begins to wipe down and dry Christen’s tools. She focuses on her task, not looking up as Christen speaks. 

“I’m sure you must think I’m a huge, helpless, liability now.” Christen snorts, “I can’t even hike through the woods without fucking it up. That as a survival pro, I suck and you got shafted and stuck with me.” 

Tobin looks up at her. “I don’t think that at all,” she says quietly, seriously, “quite the opposite, actually.” 

Christen looks unconvinced. 

“I was amazingly lucky enough to get a bunch of fish when I first got here,” Tobin explains, “then I made this shelter. I busted my ass on it because I knew I had enough food that I wouldn’t jeopardize my health by working hard those first couple of days.” She sets down the knife, chewing on her lower lip, “after I had the basics of this,” she gestures to the shelter, “completed, I wanted to make sure whoever my partner was, would be comfortable when they got here.” 

Tobin leans forward, looking Christen in the eye, “When I thought of all the horrible things that could happen to someone hiking alone and trying to find me, it scared the crap out of me. I tried to catch as many fish that I could store, I scavenged that material and made the flag and marked the trail because I didn’t know what type of shape my partner would be in after such a grueling hike. When it started raining, I felt sick to my stomach knowing that my partner was out there, out there pushing to get here for me. I was the lucky one, the weather missing me until today. I had a shelter, a fire, I was dry and fed,” she sighs, “I was worried about my partner. About you. My plan was to have all of the necessary basics taken care of before you got here so if you needed help, there wouldn’t be any pressure to do it. It’s what a good teammate does, what a good partner does.” 

Tobin scratches at the back of her neck, “We have food, wood, water. There’s no urgency right now Christen. Please don’t be so hard on yourself, this is a dangerous, unforgiving place, and I can’t even imagine what you went through trying to get here. I couldn’t do it. It would be overwhelming. I’d had probably tapped out the second day. Maybe even the first, I don’t know if I could stay out there without some sort of sturdy shelter.” 

Christen drops her eyes, sighing deeply. She still feels awful with how she got herself in her predicament, being so helpless in front of Tobin. 

“Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Tobin repeats, “Since I stepped foot here, I was planning on being able to have this set up before you got here. That was my game plan. Having food stored was a huge bonus,” she gives her a soft smile, “it’s okay, really,” She holds up two fingers, “scout’s honor.” 

Christen studies Tobin, searching her face to gauge her sincerity. It’s easy to see in Tobin’s honey speckled eyes that she is being truthful. “Okay,” she says quietly, maybe Tobin has a point. 

“Can I make a suggestion for my partner to consider?” Tobin asks, raising her eyebrows and looking hopeful.

“Of course,” Christen nods her head. 

“As an athlete, I know recovery is the key to maintaining your health,” Tobin says nodding her head, “so I suggest, tomorrow, you rest, eat like a pig, drink a ton of water and nap as much as you want. If you want to find some little tasks to do, that’s cool, but just relax. Then, Day 8 you hit the ground running.” 

“Well, I can’t do much if my clothes are still wet,” Christen says, then yawns. 

“If the rain lets up during the day, maybe I can take you on a short tour, you could borrow some of my stuff,” Tobin offers, “you know, get you out of the house for a little bit.” She cocks her head and gives her a little grin. 

“My boots won’t be dry,” Christen drawls, her voice getting lower from tiredness. She shivers again. 

“We’ll figure that out,” Tobin says. She quirks her mouth, struggling to figure out how to say what she wants to say next. 

“What?” Christen asks, seeing the internal struggle Tobin is having. 

“You’re still cold,” Tobin says, “and I don’t want to come off as a creep or anything,” she says, once again scratching the back of her neck, “but I really don’t want you in full hypothermia or anything.” Her eyes dart around, feeling uncomfortable. She clears her throat, “Would you mind, um, if I slept there next to you, maybe my, uh, body heat would help you warm up.” 

“Please, yes,” Christen murmurs, nodding her head, “I wanted to ask you, ‘cause I’m really cold still.” 

“Would you like some more tea?” Tobin offers.

Christen shakes her head, “I don’t want to have to pee during the night.” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, that sucks,” she stands, yawning, “I think I have everything out and drying, your tools are wiped down,” she walks over to her pack, pulling items out, “I’m going to layer up and slide in behind you, okay?” 

“Okay,” Christen agrees quietly. 

Tobin puts on another sweater, her middle weight fleece jacket, and a pair of heavy wool pants over her leggings. She sits back on her log, pulling another pair of thick socks on. 

She builds up the fire again, making it a little wider to spread out the coals and last longer during the night. Then she tosses her heavy coat and other sweaters and her light jacket on the bed behind Christen. She sits at the foot of the bed, working her feet from her slides and pushes herself up behind Christen. 

She feels nervous, she knows she’s on camera and she doesn’t want to give off any weird vibes but wants to be herself. And she really wants to hug Christen right now because she feels terrible for her. She resists the urge, lying flat on her back, arranging the clothes over herself as a makeshift blanket to retain some heat so she won’t freeze tonight. The last thing she does is put on a pair of knit gloves and a beanie, pulling it low to cover her ears. Then she settles in. 

Christen waits a second before scooting back to touch her, “Would it be okay if you spooned me?” she asks meekly, not looking at her. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, her voice low, she’s getting tired now as well, the adrenalin of finding Christen wearing off, “no problem,” she shifts to her side, her other sweatshirt bundled under her head for a pillow, setting her hand on Christen’s hip and pulling her close. Christen molds herself to Tobin and it only takes a few minutes before she can feel the heat from body. 

They lay silent together for a few minutes, both wanting to say something, both aware of the camera. 

“Goodnight, Chris,” Tobin says softly, letting out a deep sigh. 

“Goodnight,” Christen replies, sighing as well. 

 

XXXX

 

November 6, 2015

Day 7 

 

 

Tobin’s eyes flicker open to darkness. She blinks a few times and can feel material brushing against her eyelashes, making her pull her head back slightly. It’s still dark and she blinks again, slowly waking and taking in her surroundings. She’s on her right side where she started off last night, her back is a little cold, but her front is warm and wait, what is that, she wonders. 

She feels a hot breath on the front of her neck. 

What the, Tobin thinks, pulling back again, slowly, blinking as dim light comes into view. Christen. 

Christen has rolled over is now facing her, mashed up against Tobin’s body, curled perfectly into her, and wait, Tobin freezes, my arm is around her. Holy shit. Holy shit, she’s panicking a little. Am I all over her, she wonders, moving her left arm, uh huh, she realizes. Her arm is around the sleeping bag a leg slung over Christen’s knees. 

She shifts slightly, now wondering what time it is. Should I move or what, she thinks. 

Christen snuggles further against her, “Mmmmm,” she moans softly, “don’t move babe, I’m so nice and warm,” 

Tobin’s eyes shoot open, her body freezes, going rigid. She audibly gulps. Holy shit, she thinks, what do I do? Um, think Tobin, should you move or what. Maybe I’ll just stay here and pretend I was asleep and didn’t hear her, she reasons, closing her eyes, that would work. Yeah, that’s the best thing to do, just pretend it never happened. She was super cold, she was just trying to get warm, this doesn’t mean anything. 

Just stay exactly where you are and don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I can do this, she assures herself, I can just lie here. 

She feels Christen shifting her leg in the sleeping, trying to rub against Tobin, “Mmmmm, baby,” Christen rasps, “do you wanna do that thing you do with your tongue?” 

Tobin stiffens and a gasp escapes her lips, again her eyes wide. Then Christen lifts her head to look at her. 

With a sleepy grin on her face, Christen slowly looks up and sees Tobin who’s trying desperately to close her mouth that’s dropped open with shock. 

Christen’s eyes fly wide open, her body jerks away from Tobin and Tobin reacts the same, scrambling so they aren’t touching. 

“I,” Christen beings, “oh my God!” she exclaims, her voice panicked. 

“Hey,” Tobin says, wanting to keep her voice calm, but it comes out unsteady. 

“I’m so sorry!” Christen gulps, “I didn’t mean- you’re not my- oh my God!” She dives under her sleeping bag, flipping the end of it over her head. “I’m such an idiot!” 

Getting a slight chill, Tobin sits up and wraps her jacket around her shoulders, drawing her knees up. “Hey,” she tries again, “it’s cool,” She’s praying the camera ran out of battery and isn’t filming this. She glances at it and is relieved to see the red light is off. Although, she smirks and shakes her head, it would make for an interesting episode. 

“No, it’s not.” Comes the firm reply from the lump under the sleeping bag. 

“Chris,” Tobin says slowly, drawing her name out to two syllables, “really, I understand, you were dreaming, it’s cool,” She hears a heavy sigh from the lump. 

“It’s kinda cold in here,” Tobin says, “I’m gonna get the fire going and get dressed,” she says, getting to her knees, thinking if she just starts the day like normal, Christen will calm down, “then I’m going to get us something to eat, salmon okay?” 

She doesn’t hear anything, so she just gets up, and feeds some sticks to the fire. “Ah, shoot,” she mumbles, “I forgot to boil more water last night, I’ll have to go get some,” She then stands and walks over to her bag, pulling out some clothes to get dressed. 

“Listen,” Tobin continues as she changes, “feel free to raid my bag and wear whatever you want, partner,” she shimmies out of her leggings, grabbing a fresh pair of her Nike Pros and sets them down, briskly taking the ones she’s wearing off. “You can wear my slides or if you can fit in my other boots, it’s cool to wear them,” she says as she gets into her pros. 

She gets out a clean sports bra, holding it in between her knees as she stretches her arms overhead and takes off her sweatshirt. She grabs her bra and straightens up, glancing to see Christen looking at her and then quickly averting her eyes. 

It doesn’t even register to Tobin, who’s changed her clothes and shown her nakedness in front of women in countless locker rooms over the years, that Christen would be uncomfortable. “I’ll make a quick trip to the stream, I want to see if the salmon are still running and get some water,” she continues, “I’ll stop back and if you feel up to joining me after we eat, that’s cool, if you want to still sleep, that’s fine too,” 

She chatters on, doing her best to try and make Christen feel comfortable, as if her morning murmurs haven’t made Tobin think any different of her. It’s quite the opposite. Tobin is incredibly attracted to Christen, she finds her beautiful, even in her miserable state last night. But Tobin doesn’t know her, she doesn’t know if she’s in to chicks, and she certainly doesn’t want to flirt with her on their official first day of meeting. 

Tobin does her best to ignore how Christen’s mouth drops a little as her eyes crawl over her body as she puts her bra on and then her undershirt. She stands a little taller, liking that Christen’s seemingly impressed with her physique. 

“So,” Tobin says, reaching down to grab the can of bear spray, “I’ll be back shortly and we can get breakfast started, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Christen says, clearing her throat, “be safe.” 

When Tobin gets back to the shelter with a full pot of water, some smoked salmon and a new plastic tray she found washed up along the cove, Christen is fully dressed and rearranging her clothes along the stone wall. Tobin notes how her clothes fit Christen so well. 

“Are they drying?” Tobin asks as she sets the pot down and places the salmon on the fry pan near the fire. 

“Yes, some more than others,” Christen replies, “The boots are still pretty wet though,” 

Her voice seems pretty calm and normal to Tobin and it makes her happy the strangeness between them may be lifting. She eyes the camera on the tripod, noting that the red light is on and filming. 

“I don’t mind cooking,” Christen offers, looking at her hopefully. 

“Sure,” Tobin nods, “I’ll change out the batteries and cards on the rest of the cameras so they’re ready to go. I think they’re starting to do medical checks on us every day now,” 

Christen nods, “Is it still raining?” 

“Just a drizzle,” Tobin answers, “not too hard.” 

Christen smiles at her, “Good,” 

Tobin smiles back, “Yeah.”

They work silently for a minute and then it occurs to Tobin she should ask her how’s she’s feeling. 

“So, um,” Tobin clear her throat, “how are you feeling? Are you warmed up?” 

“I’m okay,” Christen responds, giving her a shy half smile, “sore, embarrassed, but okay.” 

Tobin nods, “Good, I was worried,” she admits.

Tobin notices that all of the cooking items, mugs, her pan, the utensils are neatly arranged near the fire. Christen’s back pack is up against on the near bed with Tobin’s. 

“Hey, so,” Tobin begins, “I have a question and I want your opinion on something,” she says as begins changing out the battery on one of the cameras, “I put the entry over there   
and made the windbreak in front of it. Then I made that blocker to move and act as a door. I don’t know how to put it on hinges, but I think it works pretty well.”

“Uh huh,” Christen looks at her then glances down and stirs the fish in the pan with her knife.

“I was wondering if it’s safe to make another door,” Tobin continues, “one into this room so we don’t lose heat into the work space and log room.” 

“Huh,” Christen considers, “I think it would be fine,” she says, “actually a really good idea.” 

Tobin shrugs, “I wasn’t sure if it would be dangerous with the smoke and lack of oxygen or something.” 

“I think we lose enough smoke through the walls, I don’t think it would be a problem.” Christen replies. “In fact,” she says, “I poked my head in that little room,” she nods at her, “great idea for keeping the wood dry, by the way.” She grins, “Anyway, I was thinking what you thought about this idea,” 

“What’s that?” Tobin sets the camera down, giving her full attention. 

“Oh, wait!” Christen exclaims, “Did you mic up?” 

“Oh, right,” Tobin agrees, “I forgot,” 

Tobin suits up with the recording equipment and a camera running, Tobin turns the camera on herself, “We kind of forgot to turn a camera on, so just to fill you in, we’re making breakfast and getting ready to start our day,” she says, “right no we’re discussing improvements to the shelter.” 

She reaches an outstretched arm out to set the camera on the tripod so it films them both. 

“You had an idea you’d like to share,” Tobin grins at Christen. 

She nods, “Yeah, so I was thinking,” she begins, “what if we expanded this sleeping platform and we both slept here,” she casts an uncertain glance at Tobin, “you know, body heat is real thing, and it’s only going to get colder from here on out, and most time when I camp with a partner, we do that,” she explains, seeing Tobin nod, “so we use this space as a work area and just use the back for storage.” 

“That sounds cool,” Tobin agrees, “it would be better to work around a fire.” 

“Great!” Christen smiles, Tobin responding with a smile of her own. Tobin notices that Christen is wearing her slides, she nods at her feet, “Did you try on my other boots?” she questions. 

Christen shakes her head, “No,” 

“You’re welcome to them,” Tobin offers, “that way you can come outside and play,” she grins. 

“Okay,” Christen nods with a smile, “I will.” 

They eat and discuss what should be their tasks for the day, deciding that Tobin showing her around the area would be the first course of action after the crew arrives for the medical check ups and camera gear change out. Christen does some stretching on the bed, trying to relieve the soreness from her body. 

 

“I hate this part,” Tobin says nervously as she steps on the scale for her body fat reading, a grimace on her face. 

Tori looks down and nods, “9.1 Tobin,” she announces, “you’re fine.” 

Christen’s eyebrows shoot high on her head, “Woah,” she utters softly. Tori glances at Christen, seeing her reaction. 

“She has a special exemption because she’s an athlete,” she explains. Christen nods and Tobin blushes a little as she pulls her undershirt back on. 

“We have to head out,” Lisa announces, “glad you made it Christen,” she says, picking up one of the medical bags and nodding to Tori. Rob grabs his camera bag and the three head off, tossing their goodbyes over their shoulders.

 

Tobin is putting her heavier shirt back on, tucking it in her pants, “So, at the kitchen and food prep area,” she states, “I’ve had a couple of run ins with bears around here, so I try to be extra cautious.” 

Christen nods solemnly. 

“What do you say we walk the cove, check and see what’s washed up and if there’s anything to eat,” Tobin suggests, “I’ve found fish caught in the low tidal pools before.” 

Christen stands, “Sounds good,” she says, “you lead the way.” Her legs are still sore, but she thinks moving around a little will help. 

They find a couple of empty two liter soda bottles, a couple of opened tin cans that they pick up and short length of rope. 

Christen is excited about the cans and bottles, “I have an idea,” she says, nodding rapidly at Tobin as they walk towards the stream, “if we caught a larger fish, I’d like to try something,” 

“Sure,” Tobin agrees, “as long as we get to eat the fish,” she gives her smirk. 

As they look over the stream they can see some fish still in there, mostly salmon making their late run. “I’ve got an extra tarp,” Christen says suddenly, “do you want to catch a few of these and smoke them since the weather’s decent?” 

“It’s a plan,” Tobin agrees with a grin, happy that the morning’s awkwardness seems to have melted.


	9. Getting To Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen and Tobin spend some time outside, talking and learning about each other. It's a good day and they get a few things accomplished.

November 6, 2015

Day 7

 

“So, Christen,” Tobin asks as she adds another piece of alder branch to the fire for the smoker, “what do you do for a living?” 

“I teach biology at the University of Portland,” she replies from where she’s perched on a nearby rock, peeling the bark off a piece of alder. “I understand you play soccer professionally.” 

Tobin nods as she bites her lower lip, “Yeah, in Portland as well,” she says a little timidly, unsure if soccer is something Christen is aware of in the city. She comes over and sits next to her, grabbing another branch and starting to peel the bark away. 

“I’ve been to a few matches,” Christen grins, “it’s a cool experience.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin perks up, looking over at her, “You had a good time?” 

Christen nods, “Yeah, I went with some of my fellow professors,” she says, “I don’t think you were playing though,” she quirks her mouth, “you were gone for the World Cup?” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” 

“Congratulations,” Christen leans over and bumps her shoulder, “you even scored in the final.” 

Tobin can feel the flush spreading across her cheeks, “Thanks,” she says, clearing her throat. 

“Olympics next?” Christen follows up.

“That’s the plan,” Tobin nods, “still have to make the roster though,”

Christen nods silently. “And you decided to do this in your off season?” 

Tobin grins at that, “Yeah,” she says, “I mean, what an incredible opportunity this is,” she spreads her arms out, “being in this amazing place, trying to survive. And raising some money for some good causes.” 

“What charities did you pick?” 

“I chose Operation Pitch Invasion out of Portland, they work to make spaces available for pick up soccer, so kids and adults can easily find a place to play. Most of the time, park districts and facilities have leagues and also don’t want people messing up the pitches, so these places are for anyone, no booking times or anything. I just strongly believe kids should be able to play anywhere and not have to pay for chance.” 

“That’s pretty neat,” Christen nods, feeling something in her chest hearing Tobin speak so passionately and sincerely about it. 

“Yeah, and the other one is called To Write Love On Her Arms,” Tobin says, “they provide mental health resources to people in need. I just want people to know that it’s okay to not be okay and it’s super okay to go and find a professional to talk about whatever is troubling you.” 

“Those are some good choices, Tobin,” Christen says sincerely, “I hope you raise a lot of money,” 

“So do I,” Tobin says and shrugs, “if we win, that would be sweet,” 

“Well, I’ll do everything in my power to help put us in that position.” 

“So will I,” Tobin grins. “Do the pros pick charities too?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No, although I thought it would be cool, we just don’t have the fan base like you guys.” 

“Oh,” Tobin says, “right.” Now she feels weird about her status as a quasi-celebrity. 

“That’s a pretty impressive knife,” Christen acknowledges, bumping her shoulder again. She could sense Tobin was uncomfortable. 

Tobin opens her palm so Christen can see it, “Yeah,” she smiles, “my teammates gave it to me after our last match.” 

“The Championship?” Christen asks. Tobin nods. 

“That was a great match!” Christen exclaims excitedly, “You played really well, although you were sent to the ground a lot,” 

Tobin arches an eyebrow at her, “You watched?” 

Christen nods, “I was there,” she answers. “And I must say, I was outraged Abby didn’t get a yellow when she elbowed you in the head,” 

Tobin grins, “Yeah, well,” she answers, giving her a little shrug, “guess the ref didn’t see it,” she replies. 

“I think this batch of fish is ready, yeah?” Tobin asks, wanting to change the subject and standing up to walk towards the smoker. 

“Probably,” Christen agrees, noting the subject change, “I wish we had another container to store some more.” 

“Ooh, I’ve got that plastic bag,” Christen suddenly remembers, “I’m sure we can fit more.” 

“Oh, right!” Tobin nods as she opens the tarp, “Let’s get this taken care of and get some more while they’re still running.” 

 

 

A couple of hours later, they’ve eaten a lunch of fresh grayling, and Tobin is near the kitchen area, harvesting some wide blade tall grasses. Christen had asked her cut as much as she could while she was doing something with a very large salmon they had caught. 

Tobin decides to take a break and walks over and looks over Christen’s shoulder as she works, “What exactly are you doing?” she asks, perplexed that Christen seems to be scraping the flesh of the fish. 

“I’m extracting the oil,” Christen replies, “I’m pretty sure I can use it to make candles for the shelter.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin squats next to her, intrigued by what she’s doing. 

“Yeah,” Christen replies, “the oil is flammable, I’ve cut the top off the one of the cans we found, and I’ll use some of the dry birch twigs as the wick.” 

“That is so cool,” Tobin says slowly, pretty amazed by this, “do you want me to go get the twigs from the shelter?” 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Christen says, “and if you can bring my cook pot, I’ll need that to heat the oil and then pour it in the cup while it’s hot.” 

Tobin is off and back within a few minutes. She watches as Christen scrapes the oil off the rock she was handling the fish with into the pot. It’s about three quarters of the way full. 

Christen sets the pot near the fire, letting it slowly warm up. “It doesn’t have to come to a boil,” she explains, “and it’s flammable, so you don’t want it too close to the fire. Once it’s ready, I’ll pour it into the containers, set the wicks in place, pour the oil in and let it cool. Then they’re done.” 

“I think you’ll need more containers, yeah?” Tobin asks, realizing they only have three cans. 

“Why don’t we look for some empty shells or something?” Christen asks, “I’ll come back to check on this.” 

“What do you want to do with the fish?” Tobin asks, not wanting to leave it out in the open, wary about the smell attracting bears or other animals. 

“I’ll take it and toss it near the stream, let someone have a free meal.” Christen says, “I’ll work my way along the cove and look for stuff on my way back.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, “I’ll take the other side and meet you here,” 

“Great,” Christen says as she rises, “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“It’s kind of like braiding hair,” Christen comments as Tobin watches her create a woven basket. The rains had come back, a heavy, steady drenching rain, without thunder or lightning though. The two are in the shelter, spreading the grasses out around the fire to dry a little before Christen started her project. 

“I like having a basket when I go out to forage,” Christen continues, “that way, I don’t have to worry about stuffing things in my hat or my jacket.” 

“And here we always teased people about taking basket weaving classes,” Tobin jokes, “now I want to take one.” 

“I’ll show you how,” Christen laughs, “it’s not that hard, but I want to finish this one first.” 

“We got time,” Tobin nods, “besides, I want to figure out how to use this piece of wood,” she jerks her thumb towards the three foot by two foot piece of plywood she dragged back from the cove leans against the stone wall behind the fire drying out. 

“Table?” Christen queries, looking hopeful. 

“Table,” Tobin nods, “I think I want to find some roots or something though,” she says, “I don’t want to use all of my cording.” 

“I can help you with that,” Christen says, “spruce tree,” 

“A Christmas tree?” Tobin asks, surprised. 

Christen nods, “They have extensive roots, you soak them so they’re pliable and then use them when they’re damp and easy to manipulate.” 

“Cool!” Tobin cheers enthusiastically, “I’ll go look for some tomorrow,” she looks around the shelter, “maybe I’ll start on that inner door now,” 

They both work silently for a while, concentrating on their tasks, it’s a comfortable silence though. After an hour, Christen lifts her head to the ceiling of the shelter, “Sounds like the rain stopped.” 

Tobin stops working to listen, “Yeah, you’re right,” she says, “wanna go check out the cove before it gets dark and see if we can find something to eat for dinner?” 

“Sure,” Christen easily agrees, “it’ll be nice to stretch my legs.” She stands up, “I can take my new basket,” she says happily. 

“Are you still sore?” Tobin asks, seeing how she’s moving slowly. 

“A little,” Christen shrugs, “not nearly as bad as this morning,” 

“Good,” Tobin offers her a smile. 

 

 

“You’re positive that’s safe to eat?” Tobin eyes the slug like creature in Christen’s hands. They’re standing in ankle high water in the cove. 

“Absolutely,” she nods, “it’s like a giant clam,” she says, “pretty tasty too if we can find some fresh seaweed.” She glances around, “I can’t wait to get in the woods and find some   
tastier things.” 

“I’ll get the fire started,” Tobin offers, “but show me how you prepare that, okay?” 

“I will,” Christen agrees, “I’ll put it on the rock, so keep an eye on it.” 

“Will it crawl away or something?” Tobin asks, not really wanting to touch it. 

“No silly!” Christen laughs, it’s a genuine laugh and it makes Tobin’s chest warm hearing it. “From predators, like eagles.” 

“Oh,” Tobin nods slowly, “right,” she shakes her head, looking down, “predators,” she mumbles. She crouches near the fire pit, reaching to grab her stash of small twigs and fluffy material from the cat tail. She sets the items on a piece of flattish birch bark, arranging them until it satisfies her and then takes out her firestarter. A few strikes from her knife blade and a small ember begins to smoke. She lifts the bark up, carefully balancing the items as she blows on the ember. 

“Yes!” She congratulates herself as the fire begins to catch. She sets the bark down, adding the twigs and watching as the flames lick at them and then ignite. She continues to baby the fire, slowly adding more kindling until she’s content it can take some larger sticks. 

She sticks her hands out to feel the warmth, the sun is getting lower in the sky and it casts long shadows where she’s at. She wants to get dinner cooked soon so they can eat in the relative safety of their shelter and not worry about the animals that come out at dusk. 

She’s just staring into the fire, lost in her thoughts. Christen is super nice, she thinks, it’s pretty awesome she lives in Portland. Maybe we could be friends after this, she muses. 

Bad idea, Tobin, she hears herself say internally, don’t be chasing after straight girls, you’ll just get yourself hurt. But I don’t think she’s totally straight, not from what she said this morning. 

She frowns, immediately her mind flashing to Shirley. She met Shirley when she played for PSG in Paris. The hurt she felt when she discovered Shirley didn’t want to pursue their relationship after two years stung Tobin. 

 

_It hurt. Hurt her bad. She loved Shirley, she had thought their relationship was serious, moving forward. They had spoke of life after soccer, but every time Tobin asked her about considering playing in the U.S. Shirley would shut down. After numerous conversations across a few weeks, Shirley finally admitted to Tobin that she didn’t want to live in the U.S., she didn’t want to be tied down like that, making less money than she could overseas. She didn’t want to live full time with Tobin, liking having her own life alone, dating her and then being with her when she visited._

_After that, they started to bicker, at first over little things, then more serious ones._

_“I just think,” Tobin said calmly, “that maybe you could come and visit me once in a while,”_

_At the time, Tobin was suffering with a lingering foot injury and management was happy with her about it. She had just returned from the U.S. after being evaluated by their medical staff. She felt she would be released by PSG soon and she actually couldn’t wait. She had spoken with her manager and he had suggested that as terrible as it was, it was better for her to be released. She’d still get money from her contact since it was due to injury._

_The timing in her life wasn’t that great last year, U.S. Soccer wanted her back in the states to prep for the World Cup, things with Shirley were going from bad to worse and Tobin was desperately trying to stay sane while not playing._

_Her and Shirley had been dating for two years, and Shirley’s stubbornness was wearing thin. She wasn’t understanding when Tobin wouldn’t want to go out to the clubs, for one it wasn’t her scene and secondly, she wasn’t supposed to be putting undue pressure on her foot. Standing around and dancing was not a good idea._

_She let things drag on until after the World Cup, going back to France after visiting the White House, mostly because she wasn’t strong enough to actually end things with Shirley beforehand. Now that the World Cup was over, she felt less pressure, even though the Olympics were right around the corner. Not completely eager to see Shirley, she still wasn’t prepared to receive the shock of her life when she arrived at her door._

_“Oh, hey,” Shirley answered the door, a surprised look on her face and a t-shirt covering her bare legs, “what are you doing here?”_

_“I told you I was coming,” Tobin said, trying to read her expression, “we talked about it.”_

_Shirley rolled her eyes, “I must have forgotten,” she said, letting out a sigh, “Tobin,” she started._

_“Who’s at the door, mon amour?” a voice came from within the apartment._

_Tobin looked at Shirley with raised eyebrows, all of the pieces falling into place. A tall woman walked out, wearing nothing but a sheet covering her._

_She began to laugh when she saw Tobin standing in the doorway, “Only you Shirley,” she chuckled, “you have a girlfriend from another country and you still get busted.” She continued to laugh as she spun around and headed back to the bedroom._

_Tobin felt the color draining from her face, her stomach twisting in knots, that lump in her throat, the tears threatening to spill._

_“Tobin,” Shirley said softly, “it just wasn’t meant to be.”_

_“All this time?” Tobin asks, her voice cracking._

_Shirley just looks down._

_“Right,” Tobin nodded, unwilling to cry in front of her, “message received.” She turned and walked out, not looking back and ignoring Shirley’s calls to her._

_When she returned to Portland from that trip, Tobin was in the small laundry room when Alex stood in the doorway silently looking at her with sad eyes._

_“I’m sorry,” she said in her raspy voice._

_Tobin froze as she held a pair of jeans she was folding. She hadn’t told her anything that had happened in Paris, but Alex was perceptive enough with Tobin to know something bad had happened. “Thanks,” she said softly, beginning to fold them again. When she finished she put both of her hands against the dryer, leaning forward against it, “Rejection hurts.” She realized Alex would know just from the look on her face._

_She heard Alex sigh and she looked at her._

_“I was in love with her,” Tobin said, her voice uneven and cracking, “and I thought she was in love with me,” she gathered courage from somewhere deep inside her and turned to face her, leaning against the dryer to look at her, “but she’s not.” She’d shocked herself by revealing this to Alex, but she trusted Alex and Alex obviously knew something was up. “And that sucks.”_

_Alex is silent for a minute, a bit surprised Tobin opened up so quickly, “I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I’m sorry you’re hurting,”_

_Tobin just nodded. “I know.” She said and wiped a tear from her cheek._

_Alex strode forward and wrapped her in a hug, holding her tightly as Tobin let the tears finally come. It wasn’t until a few days later that Tobin actually told her what happened. That night they stayed up late, talking on the couch, Tobin telling her everything that had gone on during her relationship with Shirley._

_It was Alex that held her together in the weeks that followed, it was Alex that kept her preoccupied, going out with friends, laughing until their sides hurt. It was Alex who kept her from drunkenly calling Shirley on the rare nights Tobin would get wasted._

_Alex was her best friend and puled her through one of the worst times of her life. Their friendship was built on a love of soccer and the ability to sense each other’s emotions with words. It was a balanced friendship, Tobin doing her share when Alex would have a tough time with her boyfriend Servando. They helped each other through the ups and downs, ignoring the Talex signs, ignoring the questions tossed to them if they were dating._

_They were just absolute best friends._

_It did leave Tobin wary, she didn’t go looking to meet anyone new. She was always cautious, she didn’t feel the need to come out and be public about her sexuality. She didn’t regularly cruise the gay bars or anything, finding it so uncomfortable to be there. She felt like a million eyes were on her, only wanting to be with her to brag about it after. She wasn’t one to hook up with girls who she wouldn’t remember their names in the morning anyway._

_She buried her need to be with someone and just figured to let it happen naturally and she would know when the time was right. It was fine until now. Since she met Christen, she was feeling a bit confused and having those cameras around didn’t help at all. She would catch herself staring at the woman, she was just so beautiful. She was the first person she’s met that she really wants to know better._

 

“You look a million miles away,” Tobin hears Christen says softly.

She jerks her head up, “Oh, hey,” she says, giving her a slight grin. Christen can see Tobin was troubled by something, by the way her eyes looked sad and how she glanced at the camera let her know she didn’t want to talk about it. 

Tobin clears her throat, “Just thinking about how that sea slug is gonna taste,” she says, recovering with a nod. 

“Well, you’re in luck,” Christen grins at her wanting to set Tobin at ease, “I found some excellent stuff to make a salad as well. I’m so happy there hasn’t been a frost yet.” 

Tobin perks up with that, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” Christen smiles, “and it’s a sea cucumber,” she says, “not a slug.” 

Christen proceeds to show Tobin the contents of her basket, explaining what each variety of plant was and how they tasted. Tobin surprises her with her questions about the nutrients and calories. 

“You know quite a bit about nutrition, huh?” Christen says as she gets ready to show Tobin how to prepare the giant bi-valve. 

Tobin nods, kneeling next to her, “Yeah, we have some pretty intensive classes through the Thorns and National Team about how to keep our nutrition up.” 

“That’s a great life skill to have,” Christen comments as she makes her first cut in their lunch. 

“Oh, gross!” Tobin exclaims her face contorting as she watches a gel like substance ooze out. 

“Settle down,” Christen chuckles, “this isn’t as gross as it can get.” 

Christen is a good teacher. A very good teacher. Tobin really likes how she explains the process, how easily she answers Tobin’s questions without making her feel stupid. She can just picture her up in front of a class giving a lecture. 

“I wish I had something to write this all down,” Tobin laments, “I’ll never remember all of this,” 

“Oh, I can recommend a couple of excellent books,” Christen offers, “I usually look through them before I go on my trips, you know, to brush up my memory.” 

“That would be sweet!” Tobin says, “I know there’s so much to learn about the different types of plants out here that are edible, it’s one of the areas I know I suck at.” 

“The books are good,” Christen states, “but it’s nothing compared to seeing the real thing out the woods,” she pauses for a slight moment, “maybe you can join one of my classes when I take them on a field trip sometime,” she says, her voice a little quieter, her cheeks growing rosy. 

“Really?” Tobin’s eyes shoot up, “That would be rad!” She says, then suddenly realizes that maybe this is Christen’s way of expressing that she’s interested in seeing her again. 

“Uh,” Tobin says, reaching for the sticks Christen had readied to stake the slug thing on for cooking, needing to do something as her mind churns with the thought of Christen possibly liking her, “do you teach any night classes?” 

Christen’s blush deepens, but she keeps her face angled from the camera, “I usually teach one night class each semester,” she says, Tobin can see she's fighting to keep a grin appearing on her face, “but I also have a couple of lectures on edible plants I give with Rewild Portland.” 

Tobin tilts her head, “Rewild Portland?” she asks, “I’ve never heard of it.” 

Christen has the meat separated from the organs of the sea slug as Tobin insists on calling it. “Do it like this,” she instructs, showing Tobin how to pierce it through the branches so it won’t fall off as it roasts.

As Tobin works, Christen fills her in on what the organization offers in way of one day classes. 

They bring the sticks over to the fire, staking them in the ground around the flames. Christen gathers up the organs from the rock, flicking them into the shallows of the cove. “We could use some of that as bait as well,” she explains as she takes a seat near Tobin by the fire, “but I figured we wouldn’t be line fishing tonight so,” she shrugs. 

“What else do you like to do when you’re not teaching or giving lectures?” Tobin asks, trying to be casual, like she’s just making conversation and not doing her best to commit to memory everything this woman beside is telling her. Way to play it cool, she thinks, you are so hopelessly in to her and you still don’t know if she’s straight or not.

“I like to meditate and do yoga,” she replies, “it’s my way of clearing my head and a great workout.” 

Tobin nods, “My experience with yoga is mostly for the stretching benefits,” she shares, “but I do like the calming aspect of it,” she says, “it’s a great way to process a match from the night before.” 

Christen bumps her shoulder against Tobin’s, “You mean your team doesn’t make you meditate on how you played?” she grins at her. 

“Nah,” Tobin chuckles, “I usually journal it, though.” She pauses, wondering about how much to share in front of the camera, “I almost brought my journal with, but then I didn’t want to jeopardize not bringing something else I might have really needed,” 

“You should have,” Christen frowns, “there’s nothing like being out in the woods when you can have an epiphany of some sort.” 

“Ah,” Tobin shrugs, “guess I’ll just have to remember this all and write it down when I get back home,” she gives her smile. They hold eye contact for a beat, then Christen abruptly turns her attention to the food, “I should get started on the salad,” she says hurriedly, appearing a bit flustered, “will you watch the meat and make sure it doesn’t burn?” 

“Sure thing,” Tobin says, clearing her throat, “that I can do.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

After they ate and cleaned up the outdoor kitchen area, darkness was descending at a quick rate even though it was early. 

“Looks like more rain,” Christen comments as they pick their way up the cove. 

Tobin looks at the sky, “That looks mean,” she says, “I thought the weather was supposed to be clear for a few days after the first storm,” 

“Something must have shifted,” Christen says, stopping as she looks skyward. 

Tobin stops walking as well, “Wind’s picking up,” she says, observing how the clouds are moving, “we should get moving.” 

“I have enough stuff in my bag for a salad tonight,” Christen speaks, breaking the silence, “maybe we could just have that tonight and we won’t have to go out in the rain.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Tobin says, “we’ve got these four crabs in the pot too,” she lifts the pot she’s carrying. 

 

“It’s warmer in here,” Christen observes as she takes her heavy coat off, “that door is really helping retain the heat.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tobin agrees, “I’m surprised how much.” 

“You know,” Tobin says as she hangs her coat from a support beam, “I was thinking about the whole bed thing,” 

Christen turns to her, her eyes raised, “uh huh,” she says slowly. 

“What about if I built a frame tonight while you work on your weaving project?” Tobin asks, “I’ve got plenty of sticks to make something to get us off the ground a little bit more.” 

“I could weave some cording,” Christen offers, “you’d have to let it dry out if you used the root vines.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, “I’ll get to it.” She looks around and finds her fleece jacket, wanting to wear it while she works in the unheated wood room gathering the pieces she’ll need. 

Christen gathers an armload of long grass, intent on weaving out some lengths of cording for Tobin to use and then making a bed mat to put over the pine boughs to limit the   
branches from poking them while they sleep. 

Once she has some of the grass spread out, she lights one of the candles she’s made, setting it on the floor, noting she should make a floor mat as well. She gets to work. 

Tobin is in and out, bringing in a variety of branches, setting them down on the unused bed. Before she starts creating the frame, she moves to the other bed, lifting branches off and stacking them neatly in the far corner. 

Once she’s got it cleared, she brings over her two long poles, setting them on the ground and noting where she’ll smooth and trim them.

They work again in comfortable silence, both concentrating on their tasks, neither feeling that urgency to fill the quiet with chatter. It’s soothing. Both are working on something they are excited about, wanting to make a contribution to their mutual comfort. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Here, I’ll take your mic,” Christen holds out her hand and Tobin hands over the coiled up wire and battery pack. She double checks that it’s off. She positions the camera near the bed, keeping that off as well, the two deciding to turn it on if they hear something during the night. The show’s producers and director had told them that filming while sleeping was optional but they would want footage if something were to awaken them in the night. 

She sees Tobin stoke the fire and add a few pieces of wood, and then turn towards the bed. Christen’s sleeping bag is finally dry, laid out next to Tobin’s on the finished bed. She looks at Tobin out of the corner of her eye, not moving her head and sees as she hesitates before leaning over and unzipping her sleeping bag. 

A wave of nervousness fills Christen, an unsureness of how this will go. She’s attracted to Tobin, there’s just this magic that surrounds her, she’s so agreeable and willing to learn and try things. It doesn’t help that she’s gorgeous as well. She feels like they’ve danced around the topic of relationships and Christen suspects it’s because Tobin is a private person but also because she might be gay. 

Christen has heard the rumors that float around the city of who on the Thorns is gay or not. She’s heard the whispers that Tobin and some Costa Rican player were a thing for a while. She won’t dare bring it up. Yes, she’s curious, because she can feel herself really liking Tobin and not in a completely platonic way. She’s such an interesting person. 

She knows she can’t pursue her, certainly not with cameras rolling, but sometimes she forgets and allows her eyes to linger on her just a beat too long. Also, she’s not positive she wants to get involved with anyone right now, at least until she knows that Monica won’t give her any trouble. She’s thinking that being alone for a bit might be good for her, just to shake herself from the clinginess of Monica.

It suddenly hits her that tonight was actually a pretty good night, her and Tobin did their own things, occasionally commenting on each other’s projects, or Tobin would ask a question or want Christen’s opinion on how she was making the bed. There was no pressure. Christen could just be and do her thing. She hasn’t ever had that happen before, her past girlfriends always seemed to be chatterboxes. Tobin seems like a generally quiet person, content to lose herself in a project and not need to make pointless conversation just for the sake of speaking. It’s refreshing. She likes it. 

She puts on a bright smile, turning to look at Tobin who is snuggling into her sleeping bag, “Ready for bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the kudos and comments- thank you! So much.


	10. Sharing, Learning and Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a sense of trust growing between them Tobin and Christen begin to share more of themselves with each other. They develop a routine, learn to work with each other and share some of their knowledge. Feelings are developing and they find a way to talk more freely without the cameras around.

November 6, 2015

Day 7/Night 

 

Tobin is silent as Christen arranges herself next to her on the bed. She’s a little nervous and chewing on her lower lip trying to think of something to say. 

“This mat was a great idea,” she shares, “it really stops the branches from poking through.” 

“Thanks,” Christen says, suddenly nervous to be lying here with The Tobin Heath next to her. 

The two are both lying on their backs, staring up at the roof of the shelter, listening to the rain coming down. Both are rigid, unsure of moving to get comfortable. For the first time since they’ve met, the silence is strained. 

“I’m sorry,” Christen says suddenly, turning her head to look at Tobin, “for earlier,” she sighs, “I was asking some personal questions and I didn’t even consider you might want to keep your private life, private.” 

Tobin turns her head to look at her, “I’m sorry, too,” she admits, “I hope I didn’t come across as a jerk to you,” 

Christen shakes her head, “Not at all,” she insists, “I saw you glance at the camera and realized I was being to nosy,” 

Tobin rolls on her side to face her, “No, you weren’t being nosy,” she counters, “we were having a normal conversation, I just kind of realized we were being filmed and there’s just only so much I want to share on TV .” She sighs, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” 

“It’s okay,” Christen assures her, “you didn’t, really. I just suddenly realized you were a little guarded and then I figured out why. I’m sure you have all sorts of people up in your business,” 

Tobin frowns, “Of all the places I’ve played, Portland has got to be the best city ever in regards to letting me be and do my thing. Yeah, I get stopped for photos and autographs sometimes, but most people there are cool. They usually don’t outright bother me or like, interrupt me while I’m trying to eat or anything. But there’s some of them,” she shakes her head, “they’re like obsessed, you know?” She takes a deep breath and sighs, “I’ve been followed before and it was kind of scary,” she says, “and when I first came here, people figured out where I lived and like camped out there and hassled me.” 

“That’s awful,” Christen whispers, rolling on her side to face to Tobin, “I’m so sorry to hear that,” 

Tobin gives her a one shouldered shrug, “It kind of goes with the territory you know?” She quirks her mouth for a moment, “It was freaky, but when the Thorns heard about it, they stepped in and helped me out.” 

Christen nods encouragingly. 

“Yeah, they got me out of my lease, moved me to a better building, one with security, and had me meet with a personal security service and learn some methods of keeping myself safe.” 

“That was pretty great of them to be so responsive,” Christen nods, “that had to scary.”

Tobin nods, “They now do a regular class every preseason for our new teammates so they don’t have the same problems.” 

“Wow,” Christen murmurs, realizing she has no idea what the life of a professional athlete must be like. Of course, there’s the sport side of things, but the private, personal sacrifices an athlete makes in return for being a public figure is something Christen never thought about. 

She looks up and sees Tobin searching her face earnestly, “I do want to know more about you,” she says shyly, “I mean, I think you’re pretty great, and really interesting,” she glances down, “it’s kind of hard to make new friends sometimes.” 

Christen nods, seeing the adorable flush creeping up Tobin’s neck and it shades her cheeks and the tip of her one ear poking out from under her beanie. She contemplates how hard it must be for Tobin to meet people who just want to get to know her. How hard it must be to figure out if they really want to know or just grab on to her fame. How lonely that must be. She swiftly contemplates how to respond, realizing she hasn’t said anything and Tobin must be feeling very weird right now. 

“Tobin Heath,” she says with a smile on her face, “are you asking me to be your friend?” 

Tobin looks at her like a deer stuck in the headlights of a fast approaching vehicle. Before she can formulate a response, Christen giggles. 

“Tobin, I would love to get to know you more,” she chuckles, “I think the best thing about this is that we live in the same city,” she pokes at her through the material of her sleeping   
bag, “Do pro athletes go out for coffee? Are you allowed to even drink coffee?” She smiles at her, amusement in her eyes. 

Tobin grins at her, “I can drink coffee,” she says, “but I kind of prefer tea.” 

“I can work with that,” Christen nods. 

“Good,” Tobin smiles at her, “and thank you,” 

Christen lifts her head, “For what?” 

“For being so cool about everything,” Tobin says as Christen just nods. They both cast their eyes downward, thinking. “I’m so grateful for the position I’m in and being able to play professionally,” she says, “but sometimes, people come across that I owe it to them or something to like, to talk about deeply personal things like we’re talking about the weather, you know? Like, I don’t want to share my political views with a stranger or on social media, they’re mine. I don’t want to talk about my family with strangers, it’s creepy. It’s just scary how some people try to like, think they know me from something or we share an acquaintance and then I find out my friend has no idea who they are. Or they try to make friends with me so they can meet other people on the team.” 

Christen is rather shocked that Tobin faces those situations. 

“I guess I understand a little more why some athletes can come across as closed off,” Christen replies, “we never know what experiences they’ve had with the press or fans that drive them to be somewhat defensive.” 

Tobin’s eyes flick down as she sighs, “It can be drag and take the fun out of meeting fans and new people,” she admits, looking up into Christen’s eyes, “I truly don’t get that vibe from you,” 

Christen gives her a soft smile, “Tobin, we’ve only just met,” she says, “and I’ll admit I’m a fan, but I think you’re a really interesting person that offers so much more than being only a soccer player. You’re a real person, with real feelings, real problems, just like me. And those people do themselves such a disservice in not realizing there’s so much more to you than kicking a ball.” 

Tobin gives her a little smile, “Thanks,” she says. Christen can see how her throat works, as if she’s trying to not be emotional. 

“We should get some sleep,” Christen suggests. 

“Yeah,” Tobin rolls on her back. “Hey, Christen?” 

“Huh?” 

“What if we talk like this every night before we go to bed? Like, to get to know each other and not worry about the cameras?” 

Christen smiles, “Tobin Heath likes pillow talk, huh?” 

Tobin turns her head to look at her, her eyes wide. 

“I’m joking,” Christen assures her, grinning at her, “I think it’s a great idea,” 

“Good,” Tobin smiles, relaxing as she realizes Christen was teasing her, “me too.” 

Christen yawns, “Good night, Tobin,” 

“Good night, Chris,” Tobin says softly, adjusting her shoulders and settling in, “see you in the morning,” 

The two go to sleep with a smile on their face, satisfied they’ve found a way to beat the cameras and be able to talk freely. 

 

 

XXXX

 

November 7, 2015 

Day 8

 

“Happy One Week!” Christen cheers, doing a little dance and high fiving Tobin. “I know it’s a day late!” she giggles.

“Here’s to many more!” Tobin high fives her again. 

Splitting up responsibilities came naturally to them, they have an easy understanding of each other and a willingness to work together. Throughout the next week, Christen explores the area more, coming back to show Tobin what she’s found, explaining how each plant is useful. Tobin works on creating a few more creature comforts, a couple of basic stools, she carves a long spoon for cooking, makes two smaller ones for each of them to use that are kind of like sporks with little jutting teeth at the end and works on weaving a mat with Christen’s guidance to use as a rug near the bed. 

Together, they get wood, cut it down and dry it for use, organize the storage area, check the cove daily for any useful items that may have washed up and search for food. The fish that Tobin caught and smoked is holding well in the cool conditions, it’s getting colder each day and they’ve resorted to using the gillnet and doing some line fishing for their daily meals. If the fish are hitting, they fish it as long as they can, smoking their catch and storing it. If a bear was around the stream, they would leave and fish in the cove. 

If the sun is shining and the wind is low, Tobin and Christen would explore the rocks in the cove, Christen naming them and making Tobin’s head spin with her knowledge of the area. 

Tobin would be lying if she said didn’t look forward to bedtime each night, that special time they’ve dubbed Pillow Talk, when she and Christen would talk for hours about everything and nothing, really getting to know each other. 

Each night, their conversations turn more personal, getting deeper into revealing who they are to each other. They’ve covered their childhoods, their families, their college experiences and their relationships. Coming out to each other came easily, naturally, mostly because they trusted each other. Tobin shared that her last relationship was pretty fresh, how she was cheated on and it left her wounded. 

“I think it just shook my sense of trust,” Tobin says, lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling of the shelter, “I was committed to that relationship, you know? For two years. And to find out she wasn’t,” she sighs, “it really hurt.” 

Christen is lying on her side, looking at Tobin, seeing the pain in her eyes as she speaks, hearing it in her voice. She gently touches Tobin’s forearm, “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says quietly, unintentionally rubbing Tobin’s arm, she’s a pretty touchy feely kind of person, so this is just her instinct, “that had to be a hard time to go through.” 

Tobin tilts her head a little, still looking at the ceiling, “It was,” she admits quietly, “there were a lot of tough lessons to learn from it,” she turns her head to look at her, “I haven’t really put myself out there again since,” she says, her brown eyes studying Christen’s face, “I’ve been scared to.” 

Christen slowly nods, “I’ve felt that way before too,” she says just as quietly, “it’s hard to learn to trust again,” she acknowledges, “it takes time,” 

“I feel like I really have to know the person,” Tobin says, her eyes not leaving Christen’s, “really understand her character.”

“I feel the same way,” Christen agrees. 

“Did you doubt yourself after Monica?” Tobin asks.

“I did,” Christen nods, “how she acted,” she shakes her head, “it made me wonder how I didn’t see that side of her,” she says, “wonder how I didn’t realize she would be so clingy and controlling.” 

Without breaking eye contact, Tobin turns on her side to face Christen, her hand seeking and finding Christen’s, “You know,” she says, taking a moment and then swallowing hard, “I feel like some people can hide things so well, you’d never believe what they are capable of,” she bites at her lip, “I never would have pegged Shirley as a cheater, never,” she sniffs, “but when I really thought about it, like, really looked hard at it, I realized so many times she would be so vague about stuff, and I just thought she just wasn’t sure about stuff or didn’t want to commit to things so far in the future, like my off season visits. Or when I would call,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m sure there were a few times I interrupted her when she was with someone, just from how quick so got me off the phone.” 

Christen winces at that, “That sucks,” she says.

“Yeah,” Tobin sighs, “but I guess, it’s a lesson learned,” she acknowledges, “because her and I kind of slept together super fast,” she says, her mouth twisting as she bites on her inner cheek, “like, I think we were more infatuated with each other than into each other’s personalities first,” 

“Huh,” Christen murmurs, thinking back on her and Monica, “I could see that,” 

“Like, how good the sex was just kind of glossed over how incompatible we really were,” Tobin continues, “like, we kind of only had soccer in common, maybe some music, but not much else,” 

“Huh,” Christen repeats, her mind turning over, thinking to her time with Monica, “that’s a really good point, Tobin,” 

Tobin offers her a small smile, “Kind of made me feel stupid figuring it out,” she says, rolling her eyes, “all those times my friends asked me what I saw in her,” she shakes her head and chuckles softly, “I couldn’t give them any super serious answer. I just blew it off.” 

That gets Christen’s attention, her mouth slowly opening, the realization washing over her, “Oh man,” she says softly, “oh my God,” she says a little quicker, feeling a little panicky. 

She feels herself going rigid, her eyes wide. 

The six months she was with Monica flash in her mind, all those conversations that ended with Monica asking, “what are your plans tomorrow” and “who will you be with.” The side eye looks from her friend Jen, after Christen gave her some lame ass reason why she likes Monica because she just thought of it off the top of her head. 

The texts, the calls, the stopping by her office, it all comes crashing back to her, she was so stupid, she berates herself, why didn’t I see this. 

“Hey,” Tobin’s low voice brings her out of her head, that and Tobin’s hand rubbing her upper arm, “it’s okay,” she says slowly, “just breathe,” 

Christen nods, allowing herself to take some long slow deep breaths, calming herself. She sighs deeply, looking up and seeing Tobin looking at with such concern. She shakes her head a little, “Well, that was enlightening,” she says wryly. 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin says sincerely, and Christen isn’t exactly sure what for, “I didn’t mean to dredge things up for you,” 

“No,” Christen reassures her, “it’s a good thing,” she says, “really,” 

Tobin doesn’t look convinced. 

Christen bites her lip as she thinks of what she wants to say, “I knew I didn’t love Monica,” she confesses, “so I wasn’t like, really heart broken when we broke up. It didn’t hurt that she was acting how she was, but even before then, we never really spoke of the future.” She tilts her head, “I just think I was just happy to be with someone and ignored those red flags, choose to over look that stuff. Her wanting to move in really threw me for a loop, we weren’t even close to being at that point.” 

“It happens,” Tobin offers, “I understand what you’re saying,” 

They look at each other for a minute, both smiling softly at each other. 

“You know,” Christen says, rolling onto her stomach, “I’m kind of hating the cameras,” Currently the camera at the foot of the bed is off, only to be used if something happens during the night worth filming. 

Tobin chuckles, twisting in her sleeping bag and adopting the same position as Christen, looking at her, “Me too.” 

“I just want to talk to you about everything,” Christen admits, “I just really like talking to you.” Her smile is exuberant.

Tobin smiles widely is response, “Same here,” she says, “I don’t like having to think if we’re getting too personal on camera.” 

“At least we aren’t faking it or anything,” Christen says, “there’s so much other stuff to talk about being out here,” 

Tobin shakes her head, “I can only imagine the amount of shit I’m going to get when this airs,” she groans, “my friends are going to nail me on how much of a dork I am,” 

Christen sighs with a wistful smile on her face, “My colleagues are going to question my capabilities as a survivalist,” she shakes her, “with me falling in water, allowing myself to get soaked and pushing on to find you when I should have set up a camp and got warm.” 

Tobin’s face changes instantly from one of amusement to seriousness, “Oh, no,” she breathes out softly, looking at Christen intensely, “this,” she considers her words, “that happening isn’t going to have any, uh, ramifications for you, is it?” 

Touched by her concern, Christen gives her a gently smile, “Just one of being embarrassed for years.” 

Tobin’s mouth sets a serious line, her lips pressed firmly together. “Maybe we could do something to address that, you know?” 

Christen goes up on her elbows, looking at Tobin curiously, “What do you mean?” 

“Maybe we should talk about what you went through,” Tobin suggests, “clear the air, you get to say how you would have changed things or why you made the decisions you did.” 

Christen holds Tobin’s gaze, considering her idea, “Tobin Heath,” she says, a small smile appearing on her face, “you are one smart cookie.” 

Christen sees how Tobin relaxes and smiles in return, then she shrugs, “A publicist I know always says, a good defense is a great offense, always get out there first and tell your side of the story.” 

“Should we rehearse what we’re going to say?” Christen asks seriously, now thinking back of her time in the woods and all that happened. 

Tobin shakes her head, “No,” she says firmly, “I’m not an actress,” she says, “people will know instantly if it’s a set up.” 

“You’re right,” Christen agrees reluctantly, “maybe it won’t work.” 

“Nonsense,” Tobin says earnestly, “consider this: you figure out exactly how you want to explain everything,” she says, “I really want to hear your adventure getting here, you haven’t really told me all of the details, so I’ll just ask you and then make sure I ask follow up questions, like if you could change things, what would you do.” 

“So, you’ll just want to know what really happened,” Christen says, repeating Tobin, turning it over in her mind, considering how it would sound, “and then ask me what I would do differently, if at all.” 

She sees Tobin nod encouragingly.

“When would we do it?” Christen asks. 

“After you let me know that you’re prepared to talk about it,” Tobin replies, “then I’ll just bring it up when I think the time’s right, like, naturally.” 

Christen considers that plan, then smiles. “Tobin Heath, that’s a great idea.” 

Tobin shrugs, settling back down on her stomach, “I’ve had to deal with the media since I was nineteen years old,” she says quietly, “actually, a little even before that, but on the National stage, I was nineteen. I’ve had plenty of classes and been coached about how to respond to positive and negative scenarios.” 

Christen lies back down on her stomach, “Hum,” she says, “you’ve had a very different life than me,” she says softly, “I wasn’t comfortable doing any public speaking until my senior year.” 

“I’ve been so lucky,” Tobin says just as softly, her voice low and sleepy, “being able to do what I love has been a dream.” 

Christen nods at her, “That’s pretty amazing,” she smiles, seeing how Tobin’s eyes are half lidded, how tired she looks. “Good night,” she says, not wanting to keep her awake any longer. 

“Night, Chris,” Tobin sleepily replies, shutting her eyes closed, sighing quietly. 

Christen keeps looking at her in the dim light of the fire, studying her features. I really like her, she thinks. I really like how she says my name, it just sounds so ft and gentle. 

She turns her head away to face the fire, rolling to her side. She lies there for a minute. “Tobin?” she questions. 

“Hum?” is the sleepy response. 

“Can you come closer?” Christen asks, “I’m cold.” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin replies, sounding out of it, moving in behind her, their bodies touching through the sleeping bags. 

“Thanks,” Christen smiles, scooting back into Tobin’s body more. She shuts her eyes and sleep comes quickly. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 13, 2015 

Day 14 

 

Tobin smiles brightly as Christen approaches her. She’s in the cove, sitting on a rock on the south side, looking out at the water while she drinks her second cup of tea in her water bottle. 

“Good yoga?” she asks as she slides over a little to give her room to sit down. The camera is on the tripod set to the side, recording steadily. 

“Good yoga,” Christen nods, taking her seat. “What are you doing out here?” Christen glances back to the cove, Tobin is almost at the end of the mountain, just on the edge of the ocean. 

“Just thinking,” Tobin shrugs, “happy two weeks,” she grins at her. Christen holds her water bottle up, “Cheers!” she grins back ad they clink their bottles together and take a sip of their drinks. 

This was their morning routine, get up, wash up and dressed, Christen does her yoga on her mat she made in the shelter, Tobin bundles up and finds a place to hang out and reflect for a bit. They come together and eat breakfast and then start their day. 

“It’s so peaceful,” Tobin comments, “even if the weather isn’t ideal.” It’s drizzling lightly, the temperature dropping. 

“The sky looks like snow, doesn’t it?” Christen asks, looking upward to the sky. 

“Yeah,” Tobin agrees, “I checked the river before I came here,” she says, taking another sip of her tea, “looks like the fish are slowing down.” 

“I think we’re set with food for about three weeks,” Christen estimates, “maybe we’ll get some snow, be able to use the snares,” 

“Do you think the cove will freeze over?” Tobin asks, “Like, to do ice fishing?” 

Christen shrugs, “I don’t know,” she admits, “it’s a pretty strong tidal current and the river coming out into it,” she shakes her head, “I’m just not sure.” 

“Well,” Tobin considers, “I reckon we could line fish,” 

“We could,” Christen agrees, “you’ve got that big tangle of line and hooks,” 

Tobin nods, “I’ll wear two pairs of gloves when I start messing with that,” she says, “those hooks are sharp,” 

“Oh wow, look at that!” Christen exclaims, pointing across the cove to the sheer mountain side. 

“What?” Tobin asks, squinting.

“You see those round and circular rocks at the base, just above the water line?” Christen directs, “The ones right in the middle?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin acknowledges, “those are weird,” 

“Those are pillow lavas,” Christen explains, “from the volcano eruption that formed the mountain, they kept their shape over the years from the blast, slowly over time coming up from the ocean floor,” 

“Woah,” Tobin says, “they look super smooth,” 

Christen nods, “They were smooth from the eruption, but over all of those years, the water currents helped keep their shape, then as the plates shifted, the were lifted up and now we can see them.” 

“Huh,” Tobin says, “that’s pretty rad,” 

“Yes, it is!” Christen agrees excitedly, “I’ve never seen them before, even when I was in Hawaii,” she stands up, shielding her eyes from the sun, “you can see the diagonal lines of the layers of the schist, how it separated over the years,” 

“You really like rocks,” Tobin comments with a grin. 

“I do,” Christen grins back at her, turning to look behind her, “this side has too many trees on it to really see anything,” she murmurs, “when I landed for my hike, there was this super cool rocky area I hiked,” she says excitedly, “there were so many different rocks, I could have spent a week just checking it all out.” 

Tobin just looks at her, grinning, “You should some day,” she says, “You should come back,” 

Christen shrugs, “Maybe I will,” she grins, “definitely when it’s warmer though,” 

“Good call,” Tobin says, standing up, “ready to eat something?” 

“Yes!” Christen replies with a smile, “You cooking?” She resists the urge to link their arms to walk back together.   
“Sure,” Tobin answers easily, lifting Christen’s woven basket, “thought we’d finish the mushrooms,” she says as they carefully leave the rocky area, “and there’s a fish stuck in one of the tidal pools, I think it’s a grayling,” 

“I’ll get the fish and prep it, if you want to get the fire started,” Christen offers, glancing back at her. 

“Sounds good to me,” Tobin grins, “let get our day started.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“What are you doing?” Christen questions, peering over Tobin’s shoulder as she’s using her saw on a large piece of wood. 

“It’s a Swedish Fire Log,” Tobin says, spinning the log and changing the angle of her cut. So far there’s intersecting cuts on the top of the piece of wood. As Tobin begins to saw, this would complete it to look like a cut pizza.

“It’s also known as a Canadian Candle,” she says, looking at up her as she switches out her saw for her hand axe. “I wanted to get the cuts started first,” she explains, “then I’ll use my axe to make deeper cuts, open up the spaces between the cuts,” 

She drives the axe into her first cut, spinning the wood and repeating the process all the way around. Then she starts again, driving the axe deeper with each swing, until the top of the log is split with an opening down the middle. 

“Well, that’s cool,” Christen comments, nodding her head approvingly, “I’ve never seen that before,” 

“No?” Tobin looks up at her, “One of my teammates showed me how to make this,” she says, “now you fill the middle with super small kindling, transfer or start your fire there and it burns from the inside out,” she explains, “it’s great for cooking dinner tonight, you just set your pan on it and then as the fire takes and gets bigger, the outer pieces fall off and the fire gets larger, like by bedtime, it will be going strong, we’ll just add some branches before we go to sleep.” 

“What a great way to save on wood,” Christen murmurs, setting her had on Tobin’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “that’s really great. I’ll have to remember this,” 

Tobin smiles big at her, “Glad I could show you something,” she says, setting the log aside, “I’ll save this for tonight, okay?” 

“Yeah, I want to see how it works,” Christen grins, “that is super cool.” 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Okay, I’ll grab this and lift up, then you can pull the other one out underneath,” Christen directs. The two are freeing a smaller log under a rotten one. 

“You count off, okay?” Tobin says, pushing herself into the branches to get a grip on the smaller fallen tree.   
“On three,” Christen says, readying her grip on the broken off log, “one, two, three!” She lifts and Tobin pulls, but the end of Christen’s log breaks off from the rot, sending a large branch onto Tobin.

“Ah!” Tobin cries out, bending over in the mass of branches. 

“Tobin!” Christen shouts, scrambling around the tree, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin answers, her voice a mix of pain and irritation, “hang on,” she says, slowly picking herself from the branches. Christen meets her, concern in her eyes as she sees Tobin rubbing her head. 

“You okay?” she asks fearfully, “The end broke off,” she says, feeling terrible. 

“I see,” Tobin says, looking at the front of Christen’s jacket that’s covered in bits of tree bark and little pieces of wood. She’s still rubbing the side of her head. 

“Let me look,” Christen insists, stepping close to her.

“It’s fine,” Tobin waves her off, “I’m good.” 

“Let me look,” Christen flashes her eyes at Tobin, “I want to see if you’re cut,” 

Tobin sees she’s serious, so she takes off her hat, turning her head to the side. Christen carefully runs her fingers through Tobin’s hair, stopping when Tobin winces. 

“Right there,” She confirms side eying Christen. 

“Sorry,” Christen frowns, “you’re not bleeding,” she says, dropping her hands onto Tobin’s upper arms, “I’m really sorry,” she says looking at her. 

“It’s okay,” Tobin gives her a small smile, “I know it was an accident,” she nods at her. The two hold their gaze for a moment, then Christen realizes she’s still touching Tobin and drops her hands, “Okay, so let’s find another tree, huh?” Christen nods.

“Can I pick it out one this time that’s not a death trap?” Tobin smirks, her eyes showing some amusement. 

“I’m sorry!” Christen repeats, but she can’t stop smiling at Tobin. “Go pick your tree!” she laughs. 

Tobin melodic laugh makes Christen smile wider as she bends down to grab the camera on the tripod, filming her as she starts verbally processing her choices. 

“She’s such an ass,” Christen chuckles with amusement, forgetting she’s got on her microphone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see we've skipped a few days, highlighting the important stuff. This story will move to their time together back in Portland. 
> 
> The story is almost complete, I figure it's around 27-29 chapters or so, we'll. As soon as it's done, I'll set the end chapter up the next time I update. 
> 
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments- y'all can be so thoughtful and inspiring! 
> 
> Oh- anf Tobin for the win tonight! She was on fire!


	11. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Christen continue working together, learning about each other. Growing closer. 
> 
>  
> 
> Christen gets the bright idea to make sauna from the smoker which leads to the two admitting their feelings.   
> Day 22 brings a turn of events.

November 16, 2015 

Day 17

 

“When the offensive player moves like this,” she pushes the light colored rock across the woven mat, “when the ball is here,” she points, “in front of the defensive player,” pointing to a dark rock, “that’s what it means to be offside,” 

“Well, now it makes sense!” Christen rolls her eyes, then looks up at Tobin with a grin, “you should make a video of this, to explain it just like this.” 

Tobin chuckles, scooping up the rocks she had on the mat, tossing them near the fire pit, “Maybe,” she says, “should we head outside and take a look around? I wonder how much snow we got,” 

“Yeah,” Christen stands up, “I’ll bring my snare wire in case there’s enough to set some,” 

 

 

XXXX

 

“See how there’s multiple rabbit prints running over there between those bushes?” Christen points out to Tobin, “That’s where we set a snare.” 

Snow has come, about six inches and the temperature has dropped. Christen has Tobin stand back while she shows her how to set the snare, explaining, “You don’t want too many footprints, they seem to know human presence by those. They can smell it,”” 

Seeing the set of tracks from a larger animal sobers them both, even though the bears are just about gone, the other predators are still roaming the woods. 

“You think that’s a cougar?” Tobin asks warily, squatting down to take a closer look. 

“Yeah,” Christen nods. 

Tobin shivers, “I’m freezing,” she says as she sticks her hands into her coat pocket. 

Christen looks at her with concern, “You feeling okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “just cold.” 

“I have an idea,” Christen hesitantly offers, unsure if Tobin would go for it. 

“Lay it on me,” Tobin grins, her shoulders up high, burying herself into her jacket. 

“We can make a sweat lodge,” Christen states.

Tobin arches an eyebrow at her, “Like, a sauna?” 

Christen nods as they walk, “Yeah, we could use the tarp and frame for the smoker,” she says excitedly, “we’d both fit in there I’m sure, and then when we get too hot, we’ll just fall in the snow.” 

Tobin starts laughing, smiling wide, “Then we can do some mud masks and have a spa night!” 

“That’s not a crazy idea,” Christen replies seriously, bringing a hand to her face, “my skin feels like leather.” 

“Yeah, but don’t you usually need to use some lotion after?” Tobin asks, “I mean, that’s what I’ve always done after a sauna,” 

“I know I saw some Lemon Balm, I could make something with the roots.” Christen replies. 

“Well,” Tobin considers, “why don’t I get the smoker apart and move it near the shelter,” she says, “we have some dry rocks to use for the steam,” she nods her head, getting in to the plan, “you go find what you think would work.” 

“Let’s do it together,” Christen counters, “I’ve never actually made a smoker and you can tell me about it while we take it down,” she says, “and you can check out how I find edibles and the flowers I’m looking for.” 

“Sounds good,” Tobin agrees, she doesn’t mind doing the tasks separate, but she’s even more happy to work side by side with Christen. 

“It will take some time to extract the oil,” Christen warns, “so we should plan to do this later this tonight, after dinner,” 

Tobin puts her hands up, “What else do we have to do today?” 

Christen elbows her, “Silly!” she laughs, “Check the cove,” she holds out a finger, “check the stream to see if there’s any fish,” she puts up a second finger, “set the gill net,” her third finger shoots up, “you said you wanted to make a crab trap,” she gives Tobin a look, “and rotate the wood that’s drying.” 

“Ah, I see,” Tobin smirks, “Keeping me in check, eh?” she chuckles, “Alright, we’ve got, what, about two hours before low tide?”

“About,” Christen agrees, “well, let’s go look for the plants since the sun’s out,” she suggests, “and then we can head to the cove.” 

 

Tobin sweeps the ground with the pine branch in her gloved hands, clearing the snow for Christen to inspect. “So, since there hasn’t been a frost, these would be cool to still use?” 

“Exactly,” Christen nods, kneeling to look over the ground cover, “see?” she points to a tall plant further behind the patch Tobin cleared, “The plants aren’t shriveled, and that’s Achillea millefolium, commonly known as yarrow.” She steps over to it, bending to work it from the ground, tugging on the base to pull the whole plant out, roots and all, she turns back to Tobin, looking excited, “This is a great find,” she smiles, “this plant,” which has beautiful white little clusters of delicate flowers, “we can use all of this for a bunch of different purposes.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin smiles at how excited Christen is, focusing the camera on her, “What can you do with it?” 

“Well,” Christen’s voice changes, her inflection, what Tobin calls in her head, her teacher mode, “we can make a poultice from the leaves to help stop bleeding,” she explains, her hand fingering one of the leaves, the root can help relieve the pain of a toothache,” she nods, “a drink made from crushing the flowers and oils of the stems can help with colds, flu and help reduce a fever. You’ll sweat it out because it heats up the body.” She holds the plant out at arm’s length, looking at it with a smile and then looking brightly at Tobin, “This is a great find!” 

“Awesome!” Tobin nods, “Hope we don’t need it.” 

Christen nods with her, “So do I,” 

They continue their hunt, eventually finding the Lemon Balm, Christen explaining that this usually blooms in the spring and summer but the leaves will provide the antiseptic quality they want for their skin after a sauna.

Excitedly, Christen skips in front of Tobin, “This will be a good sauna,” she promises, wiggling her eyebrows. 

She turns to lead Tobin back towards the cove, heading for the smoker and Tobin follows, glad she’s handling the camera because she knows her face is panicked. She’s going to actually sauna with Christen, most likely naked, in a small enclosed area. 

 

XXXX

 

Tobin is screwing around making a little stick person, bending the twigs into a body and using some grasses to fill it in while Christen works on making the oil for after their sauna. She’s doing it mostly because she’s nervous at the prospect of being in such close proximity to Christen without cameras or clothes. 

She’s attracted to her, no doubt, and the more she learns about her, the more attracted she is. She’s kind of intimidated by how smart she is, she just knows so much about like, everything. But the way she explains things to Tobin doesn’t make her feel stupid, Christen’s not one ounce condescending to her, not even jokingly. 

She’s kind, Tobin thinks, she has a good heart. She smiles to herself as she fashions a pine cone as a head, wrapping a piece of grass through the cone to affix it to complete her weird little person. 

“Have you seen The Blair With Project?” Christen asks, her eyes on Tobin’s creation. 

“Huh?” Tobin looks up, “No,” she shakes her head. 

“Some people thought it was trash,” Christen continues, “I thought it was pretty decent. A group of college kids go out in the woods to make a documentary about the Blair Witch. She supposedly ordered this hermit guy to kill eight children-” 

Chris!” Tobin squeaks, looking at her wide eyed, “I’m not into scary movies,” she says, looking very uncomfortable. “I have a vivid imagination and get nightmares, easily,” she scratches at her neck, “like, seriously.” 

“Oh,” Christen looks apologetic, “I was just going to say, in the movie, they found little figures like that hanging in the trees,” 

“Ugh!” Tobin groans, tossing the stick figure into the fire, “that’s nightmare fuel for me,” she mutters, then looks at her, “can we talk about something else? The Sound of Music? The Little Mermaid? She’s The Man?” She pleads. 

“I’m sorry,” Christen frowns, “I didn’t know,” she says apologetically, “this is ready,” she gestures to her cook pot with the oil in it, lifting the pot from the fire, “it should be cool enough when we get out of the sauna,” 

“Should I go start the fire?” Tobin asks, relieved to talk about something else and try to put the now freaky image of tiny stick figures hanging in the woods from her mind. 

“Please?” Christen asks, “I’ll get the water and the camera set up,” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin can feel a line of sweat roll down her back. Her and Christen are sitting on a bed of pine boughs and their towels inside the makeshift sauna. A decent sized fire is going and Christen drops a cup of water on the hot rocks next to the fire, sending up another cloud of hot steam. 

“Oh, this feels good,” Tobin murmurs, feeling heady and tired and so relaxed. 

“I feel like I’m finally getting clean,” Christen comments, extending her arms above her head, stretching as she yawns. It makes monumental will power from Tobin not to gaze   
upon the woman’s chest. She diverts her eyes, staring into the fire, doing her best to ease her horniness. 

“Tobin?” Christen calls out. 

Tobi looks up, her eyebrows raised, “Huh?” 

“I asked if you like it?” Christen looks at her, her eyes a little droopy, feeling so relaxed.

“Yeah,” Tobin breathes, “it’s terrific,” she says, averting her eyes once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Christen tilts her head, peering at her with concern. 

Tobin shakes her head, “Nothing,” she says, clearing her throat, “I’m good,” 

“Tobin,” Christen speaks, her tone low, “come on, what is it?” 

Tobin looks at her again, seeing how the reflection of the flames flicker against her skin, how a sheen of sweat coats her supple body. She licks her lips. 

“Honestly?” she asks and Christen nods. “I’d just really like to kiss you,” she replies quietly, “but it’s not a good idea to do that, out here, for a whole variety of reasons.” She looks away quickly, biting her lip, afraid her confession will be met with rejection. 

“Tobin,” Christen says gently, “I want to kiss you, too,” she gives her a regretful smile, “you’re sitting naked across from me,” she chuckles, “believe me, I want to do more than just kiss you.” 

When they set up the sweat lodge near their shelter, they had agreed off camera to set one camera off a little distance away, so it would record them just a bit. Neither wanted to rely on the staff editing out their nakedness, so they wrapped themselves in their towels, the entrance of the lodge shielded from the camera’s view. It was far enough away to allow the two to speak quietly and not have the microphone pick up their voices. 

Tobin gives her a little smirk, “Oh?” she questions, her confidence galloping back like a herd of wild stallions, “You like what you see?” 

Christen grins, sending her a wink, “Very much,” she nods, “but we can’t,” 

Tobin nods, “I know,” she says, “I can wait,” she shakes her head, “you’re making it hard to,” she sucks in air through her clenched teeth, “but I can wait.” 

“I’m having just as difficult time as you,” Christen states, wanting Tobin to know she was just as hungry for her, “but we can’t do this here,” she sees Tobin nodding in understanding, “and definitely not on TV.” 

“You’re right,” Tobin agrees, the trace of a smile on her face, “If I kiss you once, I’m going to want to keep doing it,” she says.

“Besides, Tobin,” Christen grins, her eyes dancing with amusement, “I want to get to know you more for your mind first,” she kneels, pulling her towel up from under her, “before I take your body.” 

Tobin’s mouth drops open, once again shocked by Christen’s words. 

“I’m going to cool off in the snow,” Christen announces, “it’s getting too hot in here,” she exaggeratedly fans herself with one hand as she pokes at the fire, spreading the embers. 

“You’re something else, Press,” Tobin laughs, getting to her knees as well, “really something else.” 

The two douse the fire and exit the lodge, laughing and then screeching as the coldness of the snow hits their feet. They high step it out of the sauna, streaking in wrapped towels across and out of the camera’s view, Christen dropping her towel and slowly lowering herself into the snow, Tobin flinging her towel and doing a slide tackle and falling to her back. They make clumsy snow angels before giggling as they wipe themselves down with the snow, cleaning their bodies and then heading into the shelter to dry off and get into warm clothes. 

 

 

XXXX

 

“We shouldn’t,” Christen cautions, “not here,” she sees Tobin close her eyes and nod. 

“You’re right,” Tobin reluctantly agrees, opening her eyes to look affectionately at Christen. The two are in bed, snuggled under the sleeping bags, heads close, just about ready to kiss. At some point through the week, they combined their sleeping bags, opening both and using one to lay on and the other to cover themselves. Each morning they would zip them up, hanging them from crude sticks shoved into the ceiling lattice, maintaining the look of sleeping separately.

“Chris? Do you think maybe you’d like to go out on a date with me when we get back?” Tobin asks, her voiced quiet. Christen sees how insecure she looks, even though they just talked about how much they want to kiss each other just a second ago. She smiles widely at her, felling a flush of warmth at how cute the brunette looks right now. 

“I would definitely like to go on a date with you,” she replies, “and I definitely want to kiss you on that date.” 

A big smile comes across Tobin’s face, her eyes crinkling with happiness, “Awesome,” she says, nodding her head, “I can’t wait.” 

“Neither can I,” Christen agrees, “now rollover,” she directs, “I’m big spoon tonight.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 21, 2015 

Day 22 

 

“Looking good, ladies,” Tori announces as Christen steps off the scale. Both of them passed their medical exams, each of them getting their undershirts back on. 

“You gonna watch the match tonight?” Tobin asks Lisa. Tonight is Abby’s final match with the National Team and the last match of the year. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lisa replies, “must have been a hard choice, huh? Being here or playing?” 

Tobin shrugs, “It was, but this is a once in a lifetime chance,” she replies, “plus the idea of raising some money for a couple of great organizations,” she shrugs, “I couldn’t pass it up.” 

“Oh, by the way,” Lisa says, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, “you’re doing amazing raising money,” she nods knowingly, “big time.” 

Tobin grins, “Awesome!” she sticks her hand out and high fives her, “That’s great!” 

 

Tobin was still smiling as her and Christen watched the trio leave for the day, happy she was doing something good being out here. 

“So, are they leaking clips now to promote when the show airs?” Christen asks as they slowly walk along the cove, “Is that how they’re raising money now?” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she says, “their doing that and US Soccer is doing some during the Victory Tour matches as well,” she nods, “I made some clips before I left too,” 

“That’s great!” Christen gushes, “I’m so happy for you!” 

Tobin blushes, “Aw, come on,” she says, kicking at a rock, shoving her hands in her pockets. 

Christen continues smiling, thinking how adorable it is that Tobin is so humble and embarrasses so easily. 

“Oh, look!” Tobin points, “Something’s in that pool!” she takes a couple of carefully orchestrated steps on the tops of the rocks to get there, peering down, “A fish!” she says excitedly, “I think it’s a rockfish,” 

Christen joins her a minute later, finding a rock and putting the slippery creature in her hands out it’s misery. 

 

Christen glances over at Tobin while she cooks the fish, examining the frown on her face. “What’s up?” 

“Huh?” Tobin looks up, “Ah, nothing, I’m good.”

Tobin is a little quiet while they eat, Christen notices she doesn’t eat all of her portion of the fish. 

“You want this?” Tobin asks her, offering her flat rock with the fish on it, “I’m not super hungry.” 

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Christen replies, “you sure you’re okay?” 

Tobin scrunches her face, “My stomach is bothering me a little,” she admits. 

“Are you getting sick?” Christen asks, alarmed by Tobin’s admission. 

“I don’t think so,” Tobin replies, “it’s just kind of like, I’m nauseous a little,” 

“I can make a charcoal mix for you to drink,” she offers, “it does help with nausea,” 

Tobin reluctantly nods at her, her face grim, “Yeah, maybe I should,” 

Christen nods silently and pulls her knife from her belt, using it to sift through the embers. It takes her a few minutes to mix the concoction, handing her mug over to Tobin. Tobin gingerly takes it and peers down in to the contents. She makes a face, “Do I have to drink it all?” 

“At least half,” Christen replies, her lip curling at Tobin’s hesitance, “then rinse your mouth with your water, okay?” 

Tobin nods, frowning as she lifts the cup to her lips. 

“Ugh!” Tobin clamps her eyes shut and shakes her head, reaching for her water, “That’s kind of gross, Chris,” she says as she drinks some water, swishing it around in her mouth and spitting it out. 

“Maybe you should lay down for a while,” Christen suggests, noticing Tobin seems rather pale as she gathers the mugs and silverware and stands up, “just take it easy for a bit.” 

“I’m good,” Tobin answers, “I want to go with you to get the last of the cattails,” she insists. Christen felt tonight might bring a frost and wanted to collect any additional plants they could eat today. There’s about six inches of fresh snow on the ground and the temperature is steadily dropping. 

“Okay,” Christen agrees reluctantly. She thought Tobin would put up a fight, try to tough it out. Then she considers that Tobin is an athlete and she knows her body. 

They walk silently on the path they created from the cove to their shelter and when they reach it, Christen darts in to get her basket and then they walk to the marsh.

“You don’t know how relieved I was to see that flag,” Christen comments when they reach the embankment overlooking the marsh. “I was so close to tapping out.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Tobin smiles at her, panning the camera away to look over the marsh as Christen smiles back at her. They both look at each other for a couple of seconds too long and then bashfully look away. 

They get down the embankment, separating to collect the cattails and work quietly. 

“How many should we take?” Tobin questions, looking up as she squats, gripping a cattail. 

“Probably not more than twenty,” Christen frowns, “the flavor won’t last long at this time of year.” 

A couple of minutes later, Tobin joins her, pulling her knife out to clip the bottoms off and drop them in the basket. 

On the way back, Christen notices Tobin lagging behind, moving slower. She’s pretty quiet on the walk, as if she’s focusing on something or thinking about something. 

“Chris,” Tobin says, “I think I’m going to lay down for a bit when we get back,” 

“You’re still not feeling well?” Christen asks worriedly. 

“It’s just a little stomach ache,” Tobin deflects, “I’m sure I’ll feel better in a little bit,” 

When they reach the shelter, Christen moves open the door, allowing Tobin to enter, watching as she slowly pushes the interior door aside. She’s definitely not moving with the same vigor and pep that Christen’s normally seen. 

“Thanks,” Tobin mumbles, taking her jacket off and hanging it up. She walks to the bed, sitting down and takes her boots off on the woven mat. She takes off her outer pants, uncharacteristically tossing them to the side instead of hanging them on a peg. She gets her sleeping bag from where it’s hanging and sets it up on the platform. She unzips it and gets in. 

“I’m going out for a bit, I want to get some more yarrow,” Christen informs her, “I can make something with it to help your stomach.” 

“Okay,” Tobin says quietly, “thanks,” she curls on her side, closing her eyes. 

Christen lingers over Tobin for a moment, feeling slightly distressed that Tobin doesn’t feel well. She knows the chances are that something just didn’t agree with her and will pass through her system and she’ll be fine in a few hours. She turns to leave the shelter, determined to try and find some of plant that would help relieve Tobin’s discomfort. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Christen trudges back two hours later, happy to find more yarrow but disappointed she couldn’t find any other analgesics. She did find some wild mint, figuring they could it to freshen their breath. It was difficult to find anything under the six inches of snow, but she was diligent in her search. 

She quietly moves the door to the side, then the second one, her eyes instantly looking towards the bed. She steps in, closing the door behind her, taking off her jacket and walking over to the bed. Tobin seems to be sleeping now, the creases gone from her forehead, her mouth slightly open. 

Christen sits on her little chair, contemplating on what to do. The only thing she can do is let Tobin rest and see how she feels when she awakes. She sighs deeply, frowning as she looks at her, aware the camera is filming her. She turns to face it, “I found some more yarrow,” she says quietly, “so I’m going to mash it in my cup and extract the oil as best as I can. I think I’ll just wait until Tobin gets up and we can see how she feels,” she shrugs, “it might just be a little stomach ache, that’s all.” 

It doesn’t take her long to get what she thinks is enough oil for Tobin to take. The woman is still sleeping, occasionally twisting to her side and mumbling in her sleep. 

Christen decides to make herself useful so she heads out to gather some wood and bring it back to the shelter. They have a wood pile outside, branches just waiting to be cut up and placed inside to dry and then get stored. She works for a couple of hours, bringing over a fairly large branch and cutting it with Tobin’s saw. Then she goes down to the cove, hoping to find a fresh fish for dinner tonight. She explains to the camera that she wants to make a stew, thinking the nutrients of the broth would be good for Tobin to drink if she didn’t want to eat. 

She carefully checks the cove, shouting triumphantly with glee when she finds another grayling. She processes it at the kitchen area, chopping up the fish, keeping the bones and head in there for the nutrients and adding some kelp. 

 

She nearly drops the pot when she sees Tobin when she enters the shelter. 

“Tobin!” she exclaims, setting the pot and camera on the floor and rapidly moving to the bedside. 

“Huh?” Tobin dazedly says, her breathing a little labored. Her cheeks are flushed, her forehead sweaty, some of her hair is pasted to it. She’s flung off the sleeping bag, taken off her sweater and undershirt, now just in her sports bra, slick with sweat. 

“You’re burning up!” Christen states, looking wildly at her, she’s so pale, she looks sick, like, _really_ sick. 

“Just need,” Tobin swallows, “a drink,” she says, breathing through her mouth, “and I’ll be fine.” 

Christen hands her a water bottle and fumbles as she gets out two pairs of socks, moving the water pot to the fire. As much as she wants to just dip the socks in the cold water, she knows lukewarm towels are best for breaking a fever in an adult. 

“Did you get a cut anywhere?” Christen asks her hurriedly, thinking maybe it’s an infection from an unknown wound. 

Tobin shakes her head, lying back with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Does your stomach still hurt?” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she says thickly.

“Have you ever had ovarian cysts?” she asks, she’s had one before and it hurt like hell. 

“No,” Tobin groans, “hot,” her hands are gripping her stomach. 

“Have you ever gotten sick like this before?” 

She shakes her head violently, “Never,” she replies, her voice strained. 

Christen dips a finger into the water, it’s slowly warming up. She eyes her pack, knowing the satellite phone is there. She retrieves it, setting down next to her as she kneels next to the bed. She puts her hand on Tobin’s forehead, feeling the damp hot skin, letting out a worried breath. 

Tobin cracks open her eyes, looking at her fiercely, “I’m not tapping out,” she utters, wincing a little. 

“Tobin,” she argues, but Tobin is determinedly shaking her head.

“Please? Try to break the fever,” she breathes out, “A little time,” she says, “please?” 

Christen weighs her options, trying to break the fever is the choice, it could just be something didn’t agree with Tobin and it would work itself out of her system soon enough. 

She’d hate to be the one to tap her out and then she’s well tomorrow. 

“Okay,” she agrees reluctantly, “we’ll try for a little bit,” she says, “but if your stomach hurts worse, that’s it, okay?” 

Tobin nods, “Thanks,” she pants, “I’ll be fine,” she lets out a long breath, “just a little while.” 

Christen checks the water and dips in a sock, wringing it out thoroughly and places it on Tobin’s forehead. She puts one around her neck, and one each under her armpits. 

“Let’s get your pants and socks off,” Christen suggests, seeing that she’s still wearing her wool leggings. Tobin’s not able to help much during the process, weakly lifting her hips off the bedding, groaning as she does so. 

Tobin is whimpering quietly for about an hour as Christen silently begins packing their gear, she feels this is too serious for Tobin to endure. 

Without anything to do, Christen wrings her hands with worry, this isn’t an ideal situation. If Tobin were to need medical care, it was almost an hour away. Maybe more. 

Needing something to do to get her mind off the dark thoughts of the possible terrible scenarios playing in her head, she decides to make another basket to at least be doing something, she’ll make a large one for dirty clothes, maybe two, one for each of them, although they’ve been trading clothes a bit. 

She’s on her third basket and three hours have passed and she’s beginning to think maybe the fever is slowly retreating when Tobin lets out a cry and violently flinches, her hands gripping her stomach. 

“Tobin!” Christen cries out, scrambling over next to her. 

“Ahh,” Tobin groans, “fuck!” It’s the first time she’s heard the woman curse anything harder than a damn or shit. She doubles up in pain, her yell stifled by her sweatshirt she’s buried her head in. 

“You didn’t eat anything I don’t know about, did you?” Christen asks, wracking her brain for what could the cause of the sudden onset of these symptoms. 

“No,” Tobin moans, now curling to her side, still gripping her stomach, “hurts.” She’s wincing, a strangled noise coming from her throat as she clamps her eyes shut. 

“What hurts, Tobin?” Christen asks sternly. It seems like Tobin went from discomfort to pain to agony pretty quickly. 

Tobin just groans loudly.

“Tobin, what hurts?” Christen repeats, louder this time. 

“St-st-stomach,” Tobin spits out, twisting her head from her sweater she was using as a pillow. She lets out a cry, “b-b-b-ba-bad,” 

“Where?” Christen asks urgently, “Center or side?” 

“Was, c-c-c-c-center,” Tobin pants, wincing as she curls again, her head down, chin into her chest, “now side,” she pants. Christen can see Tobin’s face is wet with tears. 

“Which side?” Christen can’t see where Tobin is holding herself since she’s in her side. 

“Right,” Tobin yelps in pain. 

What could that be, Christen thinks, gallbladder attack, oh fuck, her appendix? 

“Chris,” Tobin calls out, followed by another pain filled wail filling the shelter, “I c-c-can’t t-t-ta-ta-take it any-mm-mmm-more!” Her voice is scared and panicky, rising in pitch, she’s having trouble forming words, breathing hard as she struggles to speak, “Call, them, puh-puh-puh-lease!” She pants, twisting once more to her side, crying into her sweatshirt. 

Christen picks up the phone, fumbling to flip open the cover, her finger hovering over the button to summon the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, that happened. 
> 
> Rest assured, I'll update soon. Don't hate me.


	12. Needing Help & Help Received

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen makes the call, fighting her panic as Tobin’s condition worsens. The emergency crew arrives to evaluate Tobin and try to diagnose what is causing her such pain.

November 21, 2015   
Day 22/Night 

“Uuuhhh,” Tobin groans, “gg-g-g-gon-gon-na b-bb-be sick,” she coughs out. 

Christen grabs the empty water pan, shoving it front of Tobin, she uses one hand to help lift her head as Tobin retches. She’s crying from the pain as she heaves. 

When she’s done, Christen gives her some mint water to swish around her mouth and spit out in the bin and then lets Tobin’s head rest on her sweaters on the bedding. “You done?” she asks, worried and knowing it has to hurt badly to make her vomit. 

Tobin nods, shutting her eyes as she winces. She’s groaning with every exhale. 

Christen presses the button on the phone. 

She gets Lisa on the line, hurriedly explaining Tobin’s symptoms, tripping over her words, how they progressed and that she’s now vomiting. 

“She won’t be able to walk out,” Christen warns, “she can’t even stand,” 

“Okay Christen,” Lisa calmly soothes, “I’m going to have Tori call you back in a minute and she can let you know what to do, alright?” 

“Yes,” Christen replies with relief, “please hurry, she’s in so much pain,” 

“We’re on our way,” Lisa promises, “we’ll be there in less than a half hour.” 

Christen sets the phone, reaching over to stroke the side of Tobin’s head, “They’re coming,” she says, “help is on the way.” 

She stands up, knowing she can’t do much for Tobin right now, gripping the satellite phone tightly. She finishes packing up their belongings. 

Tori calls back a minute later and Christen speaks with her as she hurriedly gathers their gear. 

Christen repeats Tobin’s symptoms to her, guessing how soon they presented and how bad the pain is. “She’s a soccer player,” she says, fighting the panic rising in her, “she’s tough, this is bad, this is really bad.” 

“Sounds like gallbladder or appendix,” Tori confirms Christen’s suspicion. “We’ll have a chopper ready to fly her back to Port Alberni, they have a hospital there.” 

“Okay, please hurry,” Christen pleads, her voice rising as the panic begins to get a hold of her, “I feel so helpless, she’s in so much pain!” 

“She’s going to be okay,” Tori calmly assures her, “just keep talking to her, keep her lying down, don’t let her move around too much,” 

“She is right now,” Christen interjects. 

“We’ll be there soon.” 

Almost near tears herself, Christen flies around the shelter, zipping up their backpacks, assuring Tobin with a steady stream of chatter that help was on the way. 

She finishes in record time, kneeling next to Tobin, stroking her hair, “You’re gonna be okay,” she says, “they’ll be here soon.” 

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry,” Tobin cries, “wuh-wuh-wan-want to st-stay,” her breaths are jagged and uneven as she fights through the pain. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Christen soothes, “nobody could have predicted this would have happened.” It flashes through Christen’s mind that Tobin must be in so much pain if she’s stuttering so badly. 

“C-can-can’t they g-g-g-give me pah-pah-pain pills and I, I, I c-c-c-can st-st-st-stay?” Tobin pleads, shaking her head and frowning, frustrated with her speech, “I wa-want to st-stay,” she says slowly and deliberately. 

Christen shakes her head, “I’m sorry,” she says, “you need to see a doctor.” 

Tobin huffs but then another shooting spike of pain rips through her, making her cry out and grip her stomach, curling into herself in agony. Christen winces right with her, wishing this wasn’t happening. Wishing she could help her. 

She takes the sock off Tobin’s forehead, dunking it in the warm water again, wringing it out and gently placing it back on her. 

“Chris,” Tobin cries out, her tone frightened, panting still, her chest heaving, eyes clamped shut, her left hand leaves her stomach, reaching out. 

Christen takes it in hers, feeling Tobin’s tight grip. “I’m here,” she says, “I’m here.” 

“Hurts,” Tobin cries, her voice shaky, she opens her eyes to look at her, Christen can see how scared she is, “th-th-they’re cc-com-com-coming, right?’ 

“They should be here soon,” Christen assures her, “just hang in there.” 

Tobin swallows roughly, gives her a nod, closing her eyes and still gripping her hand. Tobin is still groaning in pain with each exhale. Christen strokes Tobin’s hair, “Stay strong, stay with me,” she encourages. 

Tobin tries to nod, she’s shaking uncontrollably, tightly balled in the fetal position, an iron grip on Christen’s hand. Her breathes are shaky and shallow, eyes shut, mouth open.   
“F-f-fe-fe-feels like buh-buh-being st-st-st-stab-bed,” she pants. She issues another painful groan, twisting her head into her sweatshirt, crying hard. 

About ten minutes pass, Christen praying fervently the boat will get here as she tries to comfort Tobin. Then she hears it. 

“Tobin!” she exclaims, “I hear the boat, they’ll be up here soon,” She sees how Tobin’s throat bobs, her stomach rolls, she moves the pan as Tobin vomits again from the pain. 

Just as Christen finishes cleaning up Tobin, she hears them outside, their footsteps crunching through the snow. Relief floods through her as the outer door is moved. 

“Christen!” Lisa’s voice rings out as the inner door is opened and lights flood the shelter. 

“We’re here!” is her panicked response. She shields her eyes with her free hand as they enter, the bright lights forcing her to squint. 

“Okay, Tobin,” Tori’s calm voice speaks out, “we’re gonna get you set up and help you feel better,” 

Tori kneels down next to Christen, two others, a male and a female in uniform move around to the other side. Christen swings her head around and sees Mike setting a camera on a tripod and Lisa looking around the shelter. 

“Christen,” Tori says gently, “can I scoot where you are to help Tobin?” 

Christen nods, reluctantly letting go of Tobin’s hand. Tobin has gone ominously silent except for her loud breathing with whimpers intermixed with her exhales. Christen stands up slowly, the scene around her surreal. Lisa grips her arm, “Let’s make sure you’ve got everything, okay?” she asks her quietly. 

The next few minutes are a blur as the medical team quickly evaluates Tobin, getting an IV started and transferring her in her sleeping bag to the wire basket they brought. Mike has gone back to the boat carrying Christen and Tobin’s bags, coming back to get the camera gear. Lisa has been by a distraught Christen’s side, assuring her everything will be fine. 

Mike returns, kicking the fire out and covering it with dirt, making sure it won’t reignite and set the shelter ablaze. 

“You need a hat and gloves,” Lisa orders, looking over Christen once she has her jacket on, they’re ready to head to the boat. Christen looks at her blankly, completely spacing out and overwhelmed by what’s happening. Lisa pats her shoulder, turning to Mike who hands over a hat and pair of gloves from the deep pockets of his jacket. Lisa helps Christen put on the gloves, pulling the hat over her ears, “It’s chilly,” she says kindly, “let’s go,” she puts her arm around Christen’s shoulder, guiding her to the exit. 

“Chris!” Tobin calls out, frightened. 

Christen turns swiftly out of Lisa’s grip, moving to the basket Tobin is being carried in, “I’m here,” she says. 

“Chris?” Tobin’s tone has changed, Christen knows she’s asking her to be with her for this. She looks at Lisa, her eyes silently, desperately pleading with her. 

Lisa steps to the side of the basket, “Tobin,” she says calmly, “Christen and I will be right behind you,” she assures the scared woman, “we’ll meet you at the hospital.” 

Mike leads the way to the boat, Tori gripping the side of the basket, the other two paramedics carrying Tobin in it and Lisa and Christen trailing behind. Once on the water and pulling out of the cove, Christen kneels next to the basket, looking down at Tobin. 

They had given her some pain medication through the IV, her eyes are glassy as she looks at Christen. 

“Heeeyyyyy,” she mumbles, giving her a loopy grin, “how _you_ doin’?” she gives her a famous line from the TV show Friends. 

Christen smiles, feeling even more relief as they travel swiftly on the flat water towards civilization, not going so fast to jar the boat, but still at a pretty good clip, “Pretty good,” she replies, “how are you?” 

Tobin nods slightly, a bean shaped smile on her face, “Awesome,” she drags out the word. 

She’s so stoned right now, Christen thinks, “You’ll feel even better soon enough,” 

Tobin blinks scrunching her face as she looks up, “Look at all the stars,” her words a slurred as she struggles to focus. Christen looks down at her, placing her hand on Tobin’s forehead, over the fabric of the sleeping bag. The crew had pulled it tight over her, snuggling her in to keep her warm as they transferred her. There’s a heavy wool blanket covering her as well. 

Christen feels the sting of the cold on her cheeks as they motor towards the dock. Tori’s on her walkie talkie, coordinating the EMS services. They’re met by another set of paramedics in orange flight suits, standing on the dock with a stretcher. 

Christen can hear a helicopter powering up it’s engine as they offload on the dock. Tori strides with the crew as they head off the heli-pad, leaving Christen with Lisa and Mike and the two paramedics. They gather their belongings, Mike giving her a crushing hug. 

Lisa takes Tobin’s gear bag and Christen follows behind, carrying hers. They watch as the chopper lifts off, flying low for a bit before it circles and takes off toward Port Alberni. 

“This way,” Lisa says, leading them to a flight shack, giving a nod to a man behind a desk, manning the radio. They set the gear down and sit in a coupe of hard plastic chairs. 

“Our chopper should be here in a few minutes,” Lisa explains. “I’ve got a room for you at a hotel,” 

“I’d like to go to the hospital,” Christen interrupts, “I don’t want Tobin to be alone,” 

Lisa nods, “I’ll get you up there,” she promises, “do you want to change first?” 

Christen shakes her head.

Lisa nods again understandingly, “We’ll go right to the hospital,” she gives her a little smile. 

They sit silently for a minute before Lisa turns to her. “Your filming responsibilities are done now,” she states, “we’ll contact you in a few weeks for your follow up interview after we get through your footage.” 

“Okay,” Christen nods, remembering the guidelines from the show, “sounds good.” 

“Tobin won’t be able to leave and fly home for a few days, I figure,” Lisa muses.

“I can hang out with her,” Christen offers, hoping she doesn’t sound too eager, “if she does have surgery, she might need a hand getting around,” she explains. “I mean, she is my partner,”

Lisa gives her an understanding nod, “Okay,” she fishes in her pocket, pulling out a business card, “this has my cell phone on it,” she explains as Christen takes it, “I’m going to have to get back sometime tonight, so call me tomorrow after you know how long you’ll be around.” 

“Okay, I will,” Christen nods, unzipping her coat and finding her inner chest pocket to put the card in so she doesn’t lose it. 

“Before I leave, I’ll get yours and Tobin’s secondary gear bags in your hotel room,” Lisa states, “and once I know your plans, I’ll book your flights back to Portland.” 

“Alright, great, thanks,” Christen nods, her head swimming, “sounds good.” 

“Keep all of your expense receipts, food and whatever necessities you might need.” Lisa continues, “We’ll reimburse you.” 

“Okay,” Christen nods again. 

A helicopter is approaching and the man at the desk stands, “This is you, ladies,” he announces, putting a jacket on. They stand as well and he takes one of the packs, “Keep your heads low,” he warns, leading them out into the brisk air, as they approach the chopper, he bends low and they do as well. 

It’s a thirty minute flight and the time passes slowly. Christen glances at Lisa who’s texting someone. She looks out, her foot tapping nervously, blind to the night views, thinking of Tobin. Hoping she’ll be alright. 

Christen feels a hand on her leg, stilling her, “I’m sure she’ll be alright,” Lisa says, speaking through the headset, “that had to be scary.” 

“It was terrifying,” Christen admits, her eyes welling a little, “it happened so fast, within a few hours.” 

Lisa nods, “We’ll be landing soon,” 

Ten minutes later the two are on the ground, Lisa walking briskly to a waiting car. It’s a ten minute drive to the hospital, finding Tori sitting in the Emergency Room waiting area. 

She pops up to meet them. 

“They’re prepping her for surgery,” she informs them, “appendix.” She turns to Christen, “You’re staying, right?” 

Christen nods, “Yes.” 

“Okay,” Tori replies, “give me a minute.” She walks off to the nurse’s desk, speaking with one of them. Christen watches as Tori speaks, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards herself and Lisa, the nurse leaning over to look and then nod. 

Her eyes move to scan the waiting area, there’s only a few people in here, it’s rather quiet and calm. Much different from any time she’s been in an ER in Portland or back home near LA. 

Tori comes back to them. “Christen,” she says softly, “just so you know, this is a trauma center. The Coast Guard flies everyone they rescue in to here. They’re top notch. Tobin’s in very good hands.” 

Christen nods, “Thanks,” she says, “I think I needed to here that.” 

Lisa and Tori smile at her, “You guys did great,” Lisa says wistfully, “I was pulling for you.” 

Christen gives her a half smile, “Thanks,” she says, the thought of the show not even crossing her mind until now. 

“We’ve got to get back,” Lisa says, “to wrap things up,” Christen nods. Lisa hands her a small envelop, “Hotel keys.” 

“The nurse will bring you to Tobin’s room and keep you updated,” Tori informs her, “I, uh, told her you were her partner,” she says, raising her eyebrows, “and I think she took it to mean something else,” 

“No problem,” Christen replies, giving her a small smile, “it’s fine.” She really doesn’t mind if they think she’s with Tobin, with the HIPPA laws, it’s probably better anyway. 

The three exchange hugs in the waiting room, Lisa asking her to let her know how Tobin is and then Christen is left on her own. She finds a seat next to the packs, eying the TV that’s on the wall in the corner showing some game show. She sees a clock and realizes it’s nearly eleven at night, although she’s wide awake. 

The woman from the nurse’s desk approaches her, giving her a soft smile. “Christen? You can follow me,” she says, “your partner is in surgery, I’ll take you to her room.” Christen stands and the woman reaches and grabs Tobin’s backpack, hefting it up with ease, “It’s right this way.” 

“So, Tobin is having an appendectomy,” she explains as they walk down a hallway, “the scans show it it’s very enlarged but hasn’t ruptured yet and that’s great. The doctor wants to do it laparoscopically, but she won’t know until she gets in there and sees for herself.” They stop at a bank of elevators. 

“Either way, it should take only an hour or so,” she says, “and then recovery should be forty minutes to an hour.” 

The doors open and the nurse presses the third floor button. “If everything goes well, she should be released tomorrow afternoon or evening with pain killers and antibiotics.” 

They get off when the doors open, the woman finding another nurse. “Judy,” she greets, “this is Tobin Heath’s partner, room 314. Can you help her get settled and let her know her status?” 

The short woman with short black hair smiles at her, “Hi, I’m Judy,” she greets, extending a hand. 

“Christen,” she replies, shaking her hand. Judy takes the pack from the other woman and leads her down the hall. 

“You’ve got time to freshen up and take a shower,” Judy suggests, “are you hungry? Been out in the bush long?” 

“Yeah, about three weeks,” Christen replies, feeling a little emotional over how nice these people are. 

“Let me guess,” Judy smiles, “how about a cheeseburger?” 

Christen’s eyes dilate at the thought, “That would be amazing,” she replies, her stomach growling. 

Judy chuckles, “Thought so,” she chuckles, “we get a lot of people coming in from the woods or the sea,” she explains, “so, shower up, get comfortable, and I’ll be back in forty-five minutes with some grub for you. Towels are in the bathroom along with a pack of toiletries.” 

“Thank you so much,” Christen says heartfully, “everyone here is so nice, I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem, Christen, see you in a bit.” Judy says warmly and disappears out of the room. 

Christen surveys the room, there’s an empty space on the left side where she assumes Tobin’s bed will be, to the right along the wall is a large window with the shades drawn, a comfy looking couch with a table in front of it. A recliner is next to it, facing the wall behind her, she turns to see a TV mounted there. In each corner are cabinets, closets, she guesses. 

She steps towards the door, noticing they had passed the bathroom, she enters, flicking on the light, seeing the bright white walls, sterile and sparse. The shower is on the far side next to the toilet and the sink is closer to her. Toilet paper. A toothbrush, her eyes light up, toothpaste! She breathes a sigh of relief, happy to be back to civilization. 

She hurriedly exits, heading to her pack, excited to get clean.

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“How was it?” Judy grins at her, entering the room she’s holding a chart and sets it in a sleeve on the wall. 

“Delicious!” Christen replies, “The soup was so good too, thank you so much.” 

“No problem,” she says, “there’s a guest lounge down the hall, free coffee, drinks and snacks, help yourself.” 

“Oh, thank you,” 

“Tobin should be here in just a few minutes,” Judy states, “she’s doing good, really drugged up, but good.” 

“Everything went well?” Christen asks, wondering if there were any complications. 

“Perfect,” Judy replies, “just three small incisions, about an inch each. Appendix was intact, it hadn’t burst. We’re still going to give her antibiotics as a precaution. She’ll have pain meds through the night. It’s routine.” 

“Great,” Christen nods, thinking the healing time would be shorter for her. 

She’s showered, enjoying the never ending hot water, washing her hair twice, conditioning it as well. Brushing her teeth was wonderful, she was thankful for not having to rely on using a twig with a chewed off end as bristles, it works pretty decent, but is nothing like the real thing. 

Now warm and comfy in leggings, wool socks and her slides, an undershirt and one of her cleanest sweaters, Christen feels human again. She decides to find fresh clothes for Tobin, knowing she would probably want to shower and change in the morning. She’s surprised to discover a nylon zippered bag with contacts and solution and a hard case for glasses. She sets the case on the table. She had no idea she wore contacts. 

She’s zipping Tobin’s pack up with a stack of her cleanest clothes on the table when she hears her voice. 

“Gooooooal!” Tobin is saying, extending the word like a Spanish broadcaster. As the two nurses bring her into the room, they are chuckling. 

“Christen!” Tobin exclaims, her eyes half lidded and a crooked smile on her face, “You’re here!” 

Christen smiles at how adorable Tobin looks, “Hi there,” she replies, standing up and coming to the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” 

“Super!” Tobin beams at her, holding a hand up, giving her the shaka sign with a little shake of her hand, “Super duper!” She turns to the female nurse who is hooking up the IV line, “Isn’t she pretty?” 

The nurse smiles at Tobin and glances over to Christen, “Yes, she is, Tobin,” she replies with an amused look. She connects the IV and sets up the machine. Christen can see Tobin has an needle inserted in her right arm. 

“I know, right?” Tobin continues, “She’s smoking hot.” 

“Okay tiger,” Christen chuckles but she knows she’s blushing furiously, “settle down,” 

“You’re like a beautiful angel,” Tobin sighs dreamily, smiling earnestly at her and attempting to wink. 

“Okay Tobin,” the male nurse says, he’s smiling too, “your nurse will be here soon and get you something to eat, alright?” 

“You da man!” Tobin cheers, holding up her hand to give him a high five. He slaps palms and looks at Christen, “She’ll be a little out of it for a while and then most likely sleep through the night.” 

“Okay,” Christen nods, “thanks,” 

Christen steps to Tobin’s bedside, smiling down at her, “You feeling better?”

“Uh huh,” Tobin replies, “I’m starving though,” she complains, “I want a cheeseburger.” 

“I don’t think you can eat something that big right now,” Christen cautions her, “but I’m sure they’ll get you something though.”

“I’ll eat whatever they give me,” Tobin nods, she holds up two fingers, “scout’s honor.” 

“Good,” Christen smiles at her. 

Tobin moves her head drunkenly around the room, “This is nice,” she drawls, then she looks around her immediate surroundings, “I’m in a bed,” she looks up at Christen, her eyes sparkling and glassy, “I want you to be in bed with me.” Then she frowns. 

“What’s wrong?” Christen can’t keep up with her. 

Tobin scrunches her eyes, her lower lip out, scowling, “Need to have our date first,” she frowns. 

Oh shit, Christen thinks, struggling not to giggle at Tobin’s theatrics. I’ve got to get her talking about something else. 

“We can do friend things before we do that,” she says cautiously, hoping that will satisfy Tobin. 

“But friends don’t kiss,” Tobin full on pouts, clumsily crossing her arms. 

Just as Christen is about to answer, Judy enters the room, “Hi, Tobin,” she greets, “my name is Judy and I’ll be your nurse tonight.” 

Tobin, being a polite person, unfolds her arms to give her a little wave with her fingers. “Hi,” 

“How are you feeling? Do you feel nauseous?” Judy asks, checking her chart and looking at her over the clip board. 

She shakes her head, “I’m hungry,” Tobin replies.

“I put in to have them bring you something to eat,” Judy smiles at her. 

“Cheeseburger?” Tobin questions hopefully, her eyebrows raised. 

“Sorry,” Judy shakes her head, “the doctor said no burgers tonight, tomorrow you can have one. Tonight is some soup, some jello and some Gatorade.” 

“That is so not a cheeseburger,” Tobin sighs, leaning her head back on the pillow, “but thank you.” 

Judy smiles at her, “We’ll see how you tolerate this and then I’ll see if we can get you something a little more substantial, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” Tobin’s arm sway a little as she struggles to raise her hand and make a fist to give her a thumbs up. 

“Now Tobin,” Judy says seriously, “I need you to tell me if your stomach starts to hurt, okay?”   
“Yes ma’am,” Tobin says very respectfully with a nod. 

“You need to tell me if you feel sick or have any problems going to the bathroom, alright?” Judy orders. 

“I will,” Tobin nods again, her motions are exaggerated, head up and down. “Promise.” 

“Okay,” Judy smiles, “relax, I’ll be back with your tray, have something to eat, and remember to press your button and I’ll help you to the bathroom.” She says. She points her finger at Tobin and then Christen, “No getting out of bed without me tonight, okay?” 

Both nod in response. 

When she leaves, Tobin looks at Christen, concentrating on something. 

“Have you eaten?” Tobin asks, tilting her head, struggling to keep it up, hazily thinking if she was hungry, Christen had to be as well. 

“I did,” Christen replies, “I’m fine.” 

“What did you eat?” 

“A sandwich,” Christen demures, not wanting to break her heart. 

“Ooh, what kind?” Tobin asks excitedly. 

“Uh,” Christen tries to think, she sighs. “A cheeseburger.” 

Tobin’s face falls, her mouth drops open, “Really?” 

Christen nods. 

Tobin glances around as if she was looking for anyone to overhear her. “How was it?” she whispers. 

“It was good,” Christen grins at her. 

“Good for you,” Tobin leans back on her pillow again, her eyes are just slits, nearly shut and there’s a wide, closed mouth smile on her face, “if I can’t have one, I’m glad you could.” 

“Aw,” Christen smiles, “you’re so sweet.” 

“I mean it,” Tobin smiles at her, squinting at her. Christen suddenly remembers the glasses she found. She picks up the case on the table. “Would these help?” she asks.   
Tobin smiles wider, “Yeah, they would,” she says reaching out for them, missing Christen’s hand by a foot. After nearly poking her own eye twice, she gets them on. “Ah,” she sighs. She looks at Christen, a goofy smile on her face, “You’re so pretty,” she says dreamily. 

Then Tobin frowns suddenly, “I’m sorry,” she says slowly. 

“For what?” Christen asks, perplexed. 

“For tapping out.” Tobin says dejectedly. 

“Tobin, I don’t care about that,” Christen replies seriously, “I care about your health,” she says, “this could have been a lot worse,” 

“I guess,” Tobin says, looking down at her blanket. 

“Nobody will think any less of you for leaving,” Christen states, “besides, I tapped you out, so you can blame me.” 

Tobin looks up at her slowly, “I don’t want to blame you for anything,” she says earnestly, shaking her head. 

“Well, don’t feel bad for leaving,” Christen says with authority, “you were sick. Seriously ill. A medical emergency. You needed surgery. You didn’t just have a sniffle or a belly ache. They removed an organ from you.” 

“Like a piano?” Tobin asks confusedly.

Christen giggles, “No, like your appendix,” 

Tobin scratches at her scalp behind her ear, “Oh, yeah, right.” She agrees softly. 

Christen nods at her, “And if anyone says otherwise, I’ll,” she pauses, “I’ll beat them up.” She grins at her. 

“You’ll beat them up?” Tobin says, amused. 

“Yeah,” Christen curls her hands into fists, raising them, “I’ll show them show them who’s boss.” She fakes a couple of punches into the air. 

Tobin laughs and then winces, her hand going to her side, “Ow,” 

“Oh, are you okay?” Christen asks with alarm. 

“Yeah, it just kind of hurts.” 

“Sorry,” Christen feels bad. 

“Don’t be,” Tobin says, reaching her hand out for Christen to hold, she gives it a squeeze, “you’re funny.” 

They eye each other with grins on their faces. 

Christen can see Tobin growing sleepier by the minute. She squeezes her hand, “The food is coming soon,” she reminds her. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, using her free hand to slowly sit up more in bed, “when do you leave?” she asks suddenly. 

“Oh,” it catches Christen off guard, “I, um, I was thinking of hanging out with you for a while if that’s cool,” 

Tobin’s eyes grow larger, “Yeah?” 

“I mean, you just had surgery,” Christen explains, “and I thought maybe you’d need a hand and flying back,” she looks at her and straightens up in her chair, “I don’t want to leave you alone,” 

Tobin just looks at her, her eyes softening, a small smile spreading across her face. “Thank you,” she says softly, “you’re so nice,” 

“Well,” Christen can feel her cheeks heat up from her blush, “it’s the right thing to do, partner,” she says shyly. 

“Well, thanks, partner,” Tobin says heartfully, “that’s really sweet of you and I hope I’m not a pain in the ass.” 

Christen smiles, once again feeling at ease, it’s amazing to her how Tobin can do that with just a few words. Even though she’s pretty drugged out, she’s still so thoughtful. 

“I can’t ever imagine you being a pain in the ass,” Christen says, settling back in her chair, “you just don’t seem like the type.” 

“Oh, I’m a real pain in the pass,” Tobin says, “I’ve been told.” She wiggles her eyebrows at her, blinking as she does.

“Stop!” Christen giggles. 

A knock at the door makes them turn towards it. Judy enters with a tray, setting it down on the table in front of Tobin. “Here you are,” she says, moving Tobin’s bed in a more upright position, “I know it’s late, so eat what you can, you’ll get breakfast in the morning.” 

“Thank you,” Tobin says politely, “this is great.” 

Judy sends her a wink, “You say that now,” she jokes, “hit the button if you need anything.” 

“I will,” Tobin nods, “thanks.” 

Tobin fumbles with the plastic packaging holding the silverware in place, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she concentrates on opening it and to free the fork, spoon and knife. 

“Need a hand?” Christen asks, giggling when she sees Tobin look up at her, tongue still hanging out of her mouth. Tobin silently hands over the package and Christen tears it open immediately and returns it to her. 

“Show off,” Tobin grins as she slides the utensils out. 

“Eat,” Christen orders, “then it’s bedtime.” 

“Okay,” Tobin replies, still smiling as she opens the lid of the soup. She stops and looks at her, “Do you want some or are you still full from your burger?” 

“I’m fine,” Christen says, “you eat.” 

It takes Tobin a couple of tries to actually get some soup on her spoon but then she gets the hang of it. She eats slowly, Christen can see how she’s slowing down from the drugs and the fatigue. She stands up, going to one of the closets and pulling out a blanket and pillow, setting them on the chair. She straightens the room up a bit, making sure the packs on are on the sofa, a plastic bin is on Tobin’s table, just in case she’s nauseous during the night. 

She sees Tobin is just staring forward, her mouth slightly open, her eyes heavy lidded. 

“Are you finished?” Christens asks, seeing the soup and jello are gone and half of the Gatorade as well. 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies tiredly. 

“Why don’t you try to sleep now,” Christen suggests quietly, “are you warm enough?” 

Tobin sniffs and leans back onto the mattress, clumsily pulling the covers over herself, “Yeah,” 

Christen smiles as she lowers the bed and tucks her in, “I’ll get the lights,” she whispers. 

Tobin is out before Christen returns to her side. Moonlight coming through the window shades casts a soft light in the room. Christen settles herself in the recliner, extending it back a little and adjusting her pillow. She finally relaxes, this is so comfy, compared to a bed of pine boughs, she thinks. She’s out quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the kudos and comments- very grateful for our kind words. 
> 
>  
> 
> So, yeah, they tapped out. We can't have everything be perfect. But how interesting that Christen stayed, huh? She felt strongly to be there for Tobin, not letting her be alone. Says a lot about her character and how much she likes Tobin. 
> 
>  
> 
> What will the next few days being stuck in a port town while recovering from surgery bring?


	13. Hanging Out & Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen and Tobin spend time together while Tobin recovers, learning more about each other. They fly back together to Portland, Christen suggesting getting dinner and that leads to an invite to her home the next day.

November 22, 2015 

 

Day 23 

 

“This is nice,” Tobin comments as they enter their hotel room. Lisa had booked them at the Hospitality Inn, one of the nicest places in town, besides some of the bed and breakfasts there. It was located about eight blocks from the hospital, a quick Uber ride. 

For all of the hotels Tobin had stayed in around the world, this looked like a five star joint considering she was just coming in from three weeks in the woods. She didn’t say anything about the single queen bed, she just wanted to nap in it right now. It’s late afternoon, her morning went well, she ate breakfast, her plumbing functions worked properly and she was awake and alert and in some discomfort. Tori and Lisa stopped by to check on her and Christen, Lisa arranging their flights back to Portland. They waited for the doctor to sign off and discharge her, Christen ordering the Uber to take them to the hotel before they left the room. 

“You’re due for your pain medicine,” Christen comments as she sets their packs down on the floor near the hallway across from the bathroom. They were able to fill Tobin’s prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy. “I’ll get it for you and then you can nap, okay?” 

“Oh yeah,” Tobin says, still a little out of it from the meds and fighting how sleepy she feels, “thanks,” 

“Sit,” Christen orders as she sees her sway on her feet a little. 

Tobin slowly lowers herself into one of the club chairs in the room, wincing as she feels the pull in her side. She fumbles getting out of her jacket, feeling a pinching sensation again on her right side. She looks around, there’s a small kitchen area, a larger set of louvered doors, a decent sized living room with a couch and another one of the chairs she’s in. A desk and office chair, and even a patio through the sliding glass doors. 

“Ooh,” Tobin says, “is that our other bags?” Christen nods, “Yeah, Lisa had them sent here.” 

Tobin rises slowly, making her way to the coffee table her bag is on. This was their extra bag of personal items they wouldn’t take into the bush. She quickly finds her phone, frowning when she sees it’s dead. She locates her charger and looks around for an outlet. Christen glides by, taking the phone and charger from her, shoving a water bottle in her hand. 

“Here,” she says, “go sit, I’ll plug this in and get your pill.” 

“Thanks, Chris,” Tobin says softly, “I didn’t realize how tired I’d be,” 

“Well,” Christen says as she plugs in the chargers connecting both of their phones to the cords, “your body has suffered a trauma,” 

“I know,” Tobin nods, “it’s just, but they released me,” she shrugs.

“Well,” Christen smiles at her, “they say you never really get rest in a hospital,” she finds the bag from the hospital pharmacy, pulling out the two bottles and opening the pain meds, “so why don’t you take this,” she walks over to Tobin, handing her a pill, “and then get in that comfy looking bed,” 

Tobin looks at her, “You look kind of tired,” she says, “are you going to nap, too?” 

Christen gives her a faint smile, “I was planning on it,” she replies, “I didn’t sleep much last night.” 

“Get some dinner when we get up?” Tobin asks, a hopeful look on her face. 

“Of course,” Christen nods, “I can’t wait to eat a salad or another burger.” 

Tobin swallows her pill down, nodding, “I think I was dreaming about a cheeseburger last night,” she grins. 

Christen nods, “You were mumbling about it,” she smirks at her. 

Tobin slowly rises, “Okay, you don’t get to throw it my face,” she chuckles.

“I know,” Christen says, following her to the bed, waiting for Tobin to choose a side and then kneeling down in front of her, she glances up and sees Tobin looking at her confused, “I’m helping you take your shoes off,” 

“Oh,” Tobin nods in understanding, she lifts her right foot. 

“Besides,” Christen says, “you were so sweet about it last night, I can’t really tease you.” 

“Wait, was I…” Tobin furrows her forehead, trying to remember. 

Christen gets Tobin’s shoes off, stands and places a kiss on Tobin’s cheek, “You’re a very sweet person,” she says softly, placing her hand against Tobin’s jaw, “even when you’re under the influence.” 

Tobin’s face falls and she looks at her with dread, “What did I say?” 

“You were very sweet,” Christen smiles, removing her hand and stepping back, gesturing for Tobin to stand and get in bed, “you said if you couldn’t have a burger, you were happy I could.” 

“Did I say other stuff?” Tobin asks, concern in her voice, “Was I an idiot?” 

“No, babe, you weren’t.” Christen assures her. 

“Were they filming the whole thing?” 

“No, probably just when they came in camp to get you and bring you to the helicopter.”

“Helicopter?” Tobin questions, crinkling her forehead as she tries to remember. 

“They gave you something for the pain,” Christen explains, “you probably don’t remember much of it, babe,” 

“Babe?” Tobin questions, a hint of smile on her lips. Christen leans over and gives her another peck on the cheek, “Babe,” she smiles back. 

 

 

Thrilled to find UBerEats working on her phone, they order in dinner, Christen reminding Tobin of the foods she shouldn’t eat. After dinner, the two are lying on the bed, side by side, phones in hand. Christen is reading the nonsensical texts she’s received from Monica, starting with apologies and ending with horrible messages of bitterness and multiple threats to her and her dogs when hears Tobin sigh, “What’s wrong?” she asks her. 

Tobin is frowning as she stares at her phone, “I’m just not sure I want people to know I’m in town again just yet,” she says, “I think I want to take some time to just decompress.” 

“Well,” Christen says, “the only thing I want to do is get my dogs when I get home,” she says, “I took a three month leave of absence from the university, so I don’t have any work obligations. I’m thinking I’ll let my family and friends know I’m back the day after I get home. Take this time here and the evening I get back to myself and then jump back in the real world again.” 

Tobin nods, “I think that’s a really good idea,” she says, then pauses, “I do need to notify the team doctor about my appendix,” she says, “I need to make the follow up appointment.” She chews on her lip, “I wonder if it’s going to set me back for the season.” 

Christen glances at her, seeing her concern, she considers how Tobin’s health is so directly tied in to her job as an athlete. “The surgeon at the hospital said you could probably get back to your normal workouts within a couple of weeks.”

Tobin turns to look at her, her eyes gentle and soft, “I can’t thank you enough for deciding to stay,” she says quietly, “I would be such a mess right now if you weren’t here.”

“Well,” Christen says slowly, her eyes bright and dancing, “I think this is a very interesting way to get to know each other even more than being out in the woods,” 

“Considering how we met,” Tobin says, a tired smile on her face and her eyes looking a little sleepy, “I guess we’re not going to do anything in a conventional way.” 

“Ah,” Christen smiles wide, “conventional is so boring,” Tobin’s smile at her makes Christen’s heart race. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, “it’s so overrated.” They both chuckle. 

“You look really tired,” Christen comments, “why don’t we get ready for bed and find something to watch on TV and if we fall asleep, that’s just fine.” She thinks Tobin might resist her idea, wanting to stay up later and not give to going to bed at eight o’clock.

Tobin lets out a sigh, “That is a good idea,” she admits, “I’m going to email my doctor first and then get ready.” 

“Okay,” Christen sits up, “I’m going to change now,” 

Tobin writes out her email, explaining what happened and asking her doc to let her know when she should come in for a follow up exam. She contemplates texting Alex to let her know, but then knows she’s with Servando in England and then decides against it. She doesn’t want to call her Mom just yet, she knows if she does, then she’ll have to answer to all of her family and she’s just so tired, she doesn’t want to do that yet. She’s still very disappointed they’re gone from the show, they had such a good set up, they could have stayed there for quite some time. She rolls to her side to get up, wincing as her right side flares up, bringing her left hand up hold it against her ribs, slowly standing from the bed. 

“Hey, Chris?” she asks, walking over to look at her prescription bottles.

Christen pokes her head out of the bathroom door, “Yeah?” 

“Do you remember what time I took a pain pill?” Tobin asks, looking at her. 

“You took it at three,” Christen replies, “right when we got here,” she looks down at her watch, “I’d probably wait at least an hour. Oh and you should take your antibiotic, you take that at morning and night,” 

Tobin nods, “Okay,” she says, “thanks.” She shakes out her pills and sets them on the nightstand on her side of the bed. 

“I’m so glad you found that bar,” Tobin says, “that cheeseburger was amazing,” 

“They did have really good food,” Christen says from the bathroom, “I’m just so glad UberEats could deliver. I wonder if there’s a good steakhouse around here.” 

Tobin smiles as she walks over to her bag, opening it and looking for some something to wear for bed. It’s like she can read my mind, she thinks, I would love a nice streak. I don’t think I could stomach any salmon for a while. Just take it slow Tobin, she warns herself, don’t let things move too quick, just get to know her. 

 

 

XXXX

 

November 23, 2015 

Day 24

 

Christen looks over, seeing Tobin is still asleep. This second day she was really sore, very lethargic, not wanting to do anything except sleep. Christen felt like that a little, not to her extent, but she’s cuddled on the couch, a blanket draped over her, watching a Hallmark movie as she munches on some pretzels. She dozes off, nice and warm under the blanket, the low voices coming from the TV, the sound of the rain against the balcony window. 

The room is dark when she wakes, the only light coming from the TV screen. She wipes at her eyes, blinking rapidly, taking a deep breath and yawning. She looks over to can only make out a dark lump under the covers. 

“Tobin?” she questions, moving to stand up and wrapping the blanket around, chilled as she walks over the bed. She flicks on the bedside light, seeing Tobin wincing at her. 

“Five more minutes Ma,” Tobin mumbles, pulling the blanket over her head. 

Christen looks over at the bedside clock, “It’s nearly six,” she says quietly, sitting down on the side of the bed, “are you hungry?” 

Tobin rolls on her back, the blanket still covering her head. “Yeah,” she mumbles, her voice deep and scratchy. 

“Do you think you might want to go out?” Christen questions, unsure how Tobin feels. 

She hears Tobin yawning loudly, then she flips the blanket down, blinking at her, a soft smile on her face, “Hi,” she smiles. 

“Hi,” Christen smiles back, thinking how cute she looks.

“It’s almost six?” Tobin questions, looking up at her, then rubbing her eyes. She slowly moves back to sit up, wincing a little. 

“Yeah,” Christen answers, “you should take a pain pill,” she suggests. 

Tobin sniffs, looking around the room, nodding, “Yeah,” she says and yawns again, “I’m so wiped out,” 

“I’m feeling like that too, a bit,” Christen acknowledges, “maybe it’s just from coming back to civilization,” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Tobin agrees, “can we go somewhere casual?” 

“Yeah,” Christen agrees, “I don’t want to get dressed up,” she says, she’s wearing a Pink sweats outfit. 

“Neither do I,” Tobin says, sniffing again, “what are you thinking?” 

“There’s a pizza place close by,” Christen suggests, “it has good reviews.” 

Tobin uses both hands to wipe her eyes, then reaches for her glasses. Every time she wears them, Christen has to check herself, she thinks she looks so hot in them. 

“Pizza sounds awesome,” Tobin grins at her, “give me five minutes,” she says, “I’m curious what type of pizza you like,” 

“I can say the same thing, Heath,” Christen chuckles, standing up, “this could be a deal breaker.” 

“I’m pretty basic,” Tobin admits as she gets out of bed, “I probably shouldn’t get pepperoni tonight, though.” 

“We could split a cheese if you want,” Christen says as she finds her boots, not really caring about what she looks like for the evening. 

“Thin crust or deep dish?” Tobin stops and looks at her seriously. 

“Thin crust, of course,” Christen answers promptly, arching a challenging eyebrow at her. 

Tobin smiles, “Of course,” she chuckles, nodding her head, “it’s the only way.” 

“Come on, move it,” Christen urges, “I’m starving.” 

“Alright, alright, alright,” she laughs.

 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 25, 2015 

 

Day 26 

 

“It’s so crowded,” Tobin comments as they make their way to the baggage claim in Portland. 

“It’s the day before Thanksgiving,” Christen states, “I just remembered,” 

“Oh,” Tobin looks surprised, “wow, I had no clue.” 

As they stand waiting for their bags, Christen nudges Tobin gently, leaning over closer to her, “How are you getting home? Is your car here?” She asks quietly, looking around as she sees a few people looking at them.

Tobin shakes her head, “I was gonna Uber,” she replies. 

“Wanna share?” Christen offers, “We could drop my stuff off at my house, maybe get something to eat and then I’ll take you home?” 

“That’s sounds good,” Tobin nods, then she points, “is that yours?” Christen grabs her pack, then helps Tobin get hers. They use a cart to get their belongings to her vehicle. 

 

 

“Your place is really nice Chris,” Tobin says as she stands in the living room looking around. 

“Thanks,” she replies, setting her pack on the floor near a hallway, “my aunt is in real estate, so she gave me a heads up when I was looking for a place.” 

It’s a modest home with three bedrooms and two baths, decorated in dark wood, leather couches with an eclectic array of items from Christen’s overseas travels. Christen changes out of the coat she was wearing, choosing a dark North Face jacket. She makes sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, shoving them in her pockets. 

“Ready?” she asks Tobin. 

“Yeah,” she nods, she’s still feeling a little loopy from the pain meds she took before the short flight from Seattle back home. 

“Have you ever been to Darcy’s?” Christen asks as she opens the door, Tobin trailing behind her. 

“No, I don’t think I have,” Tobin says as she walks beside her towards the vehicle. Christen unlocks her Acura, watching as Tobin gingerly gets in. 

“I like it,” Christen continues as she starts the car, “it’s a bar, but they have a great menu.” 

“Cool,” Tobin nods, “I’m always down to try new places,” 

Christen smiles, then looks at her anxiously, “Oh, wait, do you have to like, watch your diet, or can you eat whatever?”

Tobin smiles easily, “I haven’t had any problems, even with that pizza,” she says, “In the off season I watch what I eat a little bit, but I get super serious when I start preseason.” 

“Oh,” Christen says as pulls out of the driveway, “when do you start preseason?” 

“As soon as I get released from this appendix thing,” Tobin grins. 

“So dedicated,” Christen grins, flashing her teeth at Tobin. 

“Gotta be,” she replies seriously, “next year is the Olympics and I wanna make the roster,” she says determinedly.

It takes Christen aback for a moment, remembering how Tobin replied that same way back when they were in the woods on Vancouver Island. She knows Tobin has been on the National Team for years and here she just revealed that she doesn’t assume that she’ll make the roster. The woman doesn’t assume she’s a lock on the team. 

“That’s pretty humble, Tobin,” Christen says sincerely. 

“Well,” Tobin says slowly, drawing out the word, “my particular profession doesn’t usually allow anyone to sit back and take things for granted,” she says, “the coaches know instantly if you’re slacking off, especially with your fitness, and if you do it in practice or during your club play, like with the Thorns, why would they want you on the pitch for the Olympics?” 

“My profession does,” Christen chuckles, “but only if you’re tenured.” 

“And are you tenured?” Tobin inquires, looking at her as Christen drives. 

“Yes,” she smirks. 

“Christen Press,” Tobin says amusedly, “I don’t take you for a slacker. Are you a slacker?” 

Christen smiles, “I tried to slack once in college,” she admits, “I had anxiety attack.” 

“Thought so,” Tobin nods. 

“What?” Christen glances over at her, “The slacking or the anxiety?” 

“Both,” Tobin answers easily. 

“Uh,” Christen utters, stiffening in her seat, unsure how to respond. She doesn’t think Tobin is judging her but is now curious of her thoughts. 

“I see a lot of me in you,” Tobin explains before Christen can speak, “the drive, the quiet determination, the will to improve yourself.” 

“Okay,” Christen nods, but Tobin still hasn’t mentioned the anxiety part. 

Tobin senses Christen wants more clarification, realizing she asked about the anxiety. “And I think that, while it’s an admirable way to go through life, it also carries a certain, like,” she pauses, searching for how to explain her thoughts, “a certain weight as well. Maybe like, the expectations you create for yourself are so high that it’s only natural to have spells of self-doubt or a fear of disappointing yourself or others.” 

“Huh,” Christen says as she lets Tobin’s words sink in, “pretty eloquent for someone hopped up on pain meds,” she smirks at her, “in all seriousness, I do understand what you’re saying.” She reaches over lays her hand on the top of Tobin’s knee. “I think your statement is pretty much right on the money, too.” 

“I’m so grateful that UNC and US Soccer basically forced us to speak with therapists.” Tobin shares, “If I hadn’t had that opportunity, I might not be playing now, or I might be, but way different. My attitude might suck, maybe I wouldn’t love soccer anymore, maybe I would begin to slack,” 

“When I did my undergrad at Stanford,” Christen says, “I tried to micromanage my life, every little detail was planned out. I was so stressed out all the time. I hardly left the library or my dorm. I led my group projects, worried over my partners actually doing their share,” she sighs, “I was a mess.” 

Christen feels Tobin place her hand over hers, her fingers giving her a feeling of encouragement. She glances over and smiles. 

“My sophomore year, there was this soccer player,” she continues, “she was a big deal as a freshman. We had a bunch of classes together and I _so_ wished I could be like her. She had her shit together, you know. Anyway, we were working on a project and then we went for coffee and I must have said something or she saw something and she just started telling me how speaking with a therapist was how she kept it all together.” 

She shakes her head, remembering that conversation in a loud coffee shop just a few years ago. “It changed my life,” she says, “knowing someone you looked up to, wanted to be like, sought out that kind of help and spoke so freely about it. It took me a week to work up the courage, but I went to the student center and started meeting with one of the counselors there.” 

Christen sees Tobin smiling over at her. “So,” Tobin says, “is that how you found yoga?” 

Christen smiles, pleased that Tobin remembers their previous conversation. She nods. “Yes, eventually, and meditation. That’s my maintenance and where I find my balance in life.” 

Christen guides the car into a parking spot and turns to Tobin, “Is that where you found journaling?” 

Tobin nods, “And video games sometimes,” she says, “it sounds silly but it’s just a fun way to blow off steam, pass the time and there’s enough concentration involved, it doesn’t let my mind wander.” 

“Oh, and I like to paint, too.” She says, shrugging a little. “I don’t do it enough though,” 

“That’s pretty cool,” Christen says as she shuts off the engine, “I do not have an artistic bone in my body. I’m jealous of anyone that has that talent.” 

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that,” Tobin says as they exit the vehicle, “I think everyone has a manner to express themselves,” 

“I’m gonna have to think about that one,” Christen flashes a smile, “come on, it’s this way.”

It’s rather crowded when they enter, Christen cranes her head to find a table. She grabs Tobin’s hand and leads her to a corner booth, under one of the large TVs. They slide into the booth, Tobin looking around at the high ceiling with overhead fans on long poles lazily spinning and providing dim lighting. 

“I forgot it was Black Wednesday,” Christen frowns as she hands a menu across the table to Tobin. 

“Black Wednesday?” Tobin asks, looking at her closely. She’s grateful it’s not super loud in here and there’s no music playing, just the noise of people talking and laughing. 

“The night before Thanksgiving,” Christen explains, “it’s a big party night.” She still sees no look of recognition on Tobin’s face. “It’s when mostly college kids who are in town for the holiday meet up with their friends. You’ve never heard of it?” 

Tobin shakes her head, “I only went home once, my freshman year, for Thanksgiving,” she explains, “I never heard it called that.”

Christen nods, glancing around, she can see a few people look over and then lean forward to whisper something to whoever they’re with, nudging them and excitedly speaking. They’re talking about Tobin, she realizes. 

Tobin is calmly looking over the menu, biting her lip and pushing up her glasses with a finger, oblivious to those around her. She looks so cute with her beanie still on her head, tilted back just a little bit. She’s wearing a tan, long sleeved v-neck sweater with a dark t-shirt poking through in the neck area. Dark jeans and her boots. Casual but put together so well. 

Christen stops checking her out, not wanting to get busted for staring at her, so she looks down at her menu, even though she knows what she wants to order. 

Tobin leans forward, “Is the breakfast good?” 

Christen nods, “Their food is all organic and locally sourced.” 

Tobin nods, “I think breakfast sounds good,” she mumbles, chewing on her lip and scanning her menu again. 

A server approaches and sets down two glasses of water and asks if she can take their order. Christen gets a chicken caesar wrap and Tobin orders a classic breakfast with scrambled eggs, hash browns and sausage. 

Christen orders a beer while Tobin gets a hot tea. 

They both sip their waters as they wait for their meals. 

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Christen asks. 

Tobin shrugs, “Laundry, sleep.” 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Christen hears herself saying, “why don’t you leave your gear at my place, I’ll help you with your laundry and I’ll make us a little Thanksgiving meal.” 

“Chris, you don’t have to do my laundry,” Tobin protests, “I can handle it.” 

“Tobin,” Christen says, “the doctor said no bending or lifting for a week,” she reminds her, “besides, I have to do mine, it’s no problem.” 

Tobin considers, “You don’t have to cook,” she says, “we can order out and I’ll pay,” she tries to bargain. 

Christen shakes her head, “I miss cooking with actual utensils and seasonings,” she says firmly, “how about you come over and bring some cards or a game you think you can beat me in.” 

Tobin eyes her for a full minute as she considers Christen’s generosity. She likes the idea of spending time with her and is happy she extended the invitation. She likes the idea of keeping themselves in this little bubble they’ve created, even if it’s just for one more day. An idea comes to her mind and she slowly nods as she smiles, “Okay,” she agrees, “I’ll bring over something to stretch you to your limits and expand your level of consciousness.” 

Christen raises her eyebrows at that, an amused grin on her face. 

Tobin holds up a finger, “Only on one condition,” she says, her face serious. 

“What’s that?” 

“That you come over to my place soon and let me cook for you.” Tobin barters. 

“Deal.” Christen smiles. 

“Great.” Tobin grins. “What time?” 

“Any time after one, we’ll eat around two.” Christen replies, knowing she’ll have to get to a grocery store and figure out what to serve. Plus, she wants to get her dogs. She misses them. 

“Awesome,” Tobin smiles. Tobin removes her phone from her jacket pocket, unlocking it and handing it over to Christen. “Will you put your address in your contact?” 

Christen obliges and hands the phone back. Tobin pulls at her jacket next to her and puts her phone back in it. Christen takes a sip of water and glances up to see Tobin smiling as she looks around the bar. 

Their drinks come out and Tobin puts just a hint of cream in her tea, Christen making a note of it. “Is there one particular type of tea you prefer?” 

Tobin shrugs, “I try all kinds,” she says, “but honestly, just basic Lipton regular tea is my favorite,” she swirls her spoon in her mug, “it reminds me of home,” 

Christen tilts her head slightly as she smiles at Tobin, “That’s sweet,” she says, “how so?” 

Tobin quirks her mouth, leaning back in the booth across from Christen, “On cold nights when I got home from a late practice, my Mom would always make me some tea and breakfast.” 

“Aw!” Christen emotes, feeling a warmth spread through her chest, “Tobin,” she says, feeling such a pull of emotions, “that is so, so,” she can’t think of how to express what she’s feeling, “it’s just,” she smiles at her, “what a wonderful memory to carry with you.” 

Tobin shrugs, feeling the blush rush across her, “I guess,” she says, not looking at her. Christen then remembers Tobin ordered breakfast to eat tonight. 

Christen hears someone mention Tobin’s name amid the noise of the background that’s steadily getting louder. She decides not to pursue what Tobin has just revealed any further since they’re in public. Instead she just sips her beer and think of how to change the subject. 

“Do you have any food allergies?” is what comes out of her mouth. Dork much, she thinks, slightly cringing at her awkwardness. 

Tobin looks amused, “None that I know of,” she replies, “do you?” 

“No,” she shakes her head, “just curious,” 

“So, you won’t poison me tomorrow?” Tobin jokes, clearly amused at Christen’s duress. 

“Something like that,” Christen sasses back with a grin. She thinks for a second, “Do you like lamb?”

Tobin gives her a wide smile, it’s that smile she’s seen in photos, the ones where you’d swear Tobin was a model and not an athlete, “Are we playing twenty questions?” 

“I want to know what I should feed you tomorrow!” Christen quietly exclaims, giggling a little. 

Tobin chuckles, “I’ve only had Greek lamb,” she says, still smiling, “but I liked it, but I like everything just about.” 

“Well, what won’t you like?” Christen inquires, a smirk on her face. 

“Right now? Salmon.” Tobin chuckles. 

“Same.” Christen nods. “It’s safe to say I won’t be having it for a while.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be avoiding it,” Tobin agrees. She raises her eyebrows at Christen, “What foods don’t you care for?” 

“I’m not a fan of eating chicken on the bone in public,” Christen informs her. “Or eating ribs in public.” 

Tobin bobs her head, “Yeah, I get that,” she says, “unless you’re at a rib or chicken joint.” 

“Well, then, of course, it’s acceptable,” Christen amends. 

“Noted.” Tobin grins, taking a sip of her tea. 

Their servers brings their food and they begin to eat immediately. They start talking about what TV shows they like, what types of movies they like. Tobin reiterating how she hates horror and suspenseful shows and movies, Christen admits to loving all of the Hallmark Christmas movies she’s looking forward to watching in December. 

They finish their meal, both lingering at the booth talking. The noise increases and Tobin keeps glancing over to where she keeps hearing her name being mentioned. Music has started to play and the volume in the place is only getting louder. 

Christen has already paid the bill, impishly suggesting that Tobin can just get the next one and they can take turns. She sees Tobin’s growing uncomfortable, seeing a sense of slight dread on her face. Christen assumes she’s just waiting for some drunken interaction to happen soon. 

“Ready?” she asks her, and Tobin answers yes way too quickly, wincing as she twists to grab her jacket. Tobin leads Christen out of the bar, pausing to wait for her near the door, frowning. 

“Sorry,” she says, as Christen steps in line next to her as they walk, “it was getting a little weird in there.”

“I’m sorry,” Christen says, “we should have left when we finished eating.” 

“No,” Tobin shakes her head, readjusting her beanie, “it happens sometimes,” she shrugs, “I’m just glad none of them came over,” she shoves her hands in her pockets and glances at Christen, “it’s awkward when they’re drunk, you know?” 

Christen nods, feeling a bit sad that Tobin’s popularity can result in such an invasive of privacy. Christen loops her arm through Tobin’s, shoulders touching. Tobin gives her a grateful smile, gently bumping against her. They walk back to the car in comfortable silence. 

 

“Thanks for everything,” Tobin says, hugging Christen and holding her close, “it’s been pretty amazing meeting you and the trip, well, even with everything that happened, it was the best three weeks,” 

They’re standing in the doorway inside of Tobin’s place, Christen insisting on walking her up. Christen pulls back, looking at Tobin carefully, “You say that like you won’t see me tomorrow,” she says, her voice hesitant, maybe even scared if Tobin’s reading how her eyes look. 

“You will!” Tobin says quickly, wanting to convey her enthusiasm and desire to see her, “I just,” she pauses, “I just want you to know how much I appreciate what I’ve learned from you in the woods and how you helped me when I was helpless and then you stayed with me,” she says, giving her a gentle smile, “it really means a lot.” She doesn’t mean for the tears to start welling in her eyes, but the surge of emotions coursing through her won’t let her stop it. 

Christen studies her, seeing the swirling thoughts on Tobin’s face. She smiles at her, “Who knew that badass Tobin Heath was so nostalgic,” she says. 

Tobin stiffens in her arms, her inching away from her, Christen grips her arms, “It’s endearing,” she says, assuring her, holding her tighter, “and I feel the same way, this trip, for all that happened, was the best time for me too,” 

“Chris?” Tobin searches her eyes for sincerity, looking at her intently. 

“Yeah,” Christen nods, her voice throaty, feeling that warmth bubble up within her, like it does being around Tobin. 

“I trust you,” Tobin says, her eyes flickering down to Christen’s lips and then back to look at her. 

“I trust you, too,” Christen murmurs as she leans forward, licking her lips, her eyes on Tobin’s, closing them, leaning in, brushing her lips against Tobin’s, kissing her. She feels Tobin respond, pressing forward, into it just as much as she is. Christen brushes her tongue against Tobin’s lips, seeking entrance, which she feels Tobin grant. They both issue soft moans as their tongues meet, seeking each other, twisting against each other. She doesn’t know how long they kiss, the time seems to stop. Breathing become an issue, Christen pressing on, wanting to taste all that Tobin has to offer. They step back at the same time, Christen feeling light headed and one glance at Tobin confirms she is as well. 

Tobin is looking at her dumbstruck with this goofy grin on her face, reminiscent of just a couple of days ago when she was coming out of the anesthesia. 

They both suck in large breaths, Tobin wincing a little, her back twisting to the side a little. “You okay?” Christen asks softly, trying to read her expression. 

Tobin’s still a little breathless, “Super duper,” she says dreamily, her eyes beaming at her. 

“Good,” Christen smiles, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips, “I’ll see you any time after one tomorrow,” she reluctantly leaves her embrace, wishing she could stay there forever. 

Tobin leans against her doorjamb, watching as Christen walks away, “Please text me you got home safely.”

Christen raises her hand and gives her a thumbs up, glancing at her as she waits for the elevator. They smile at each other until the doors open and Christen gives her a cute wave and disappears. 

Tobin remains there for a moment, savoring it. Then she steps back into her apartment and shuts the door. She slowly takes off her jacket, casually dropping it on the side table near the door. Alex won’t be home until Saturday sometime, coming back from her trip to England. She searches her pockets to remove her medications, carrying them as she walks to the kitchen. Her heart is thumping in her chest, she can still feel Christen’s lips on her own. 

I want her so bad, she thinks, that woman is amazing. 

She shakes her head, getting a glass and filling it water, downing a pain pill and her antibiotic. She’s anxious to sleep in her own bed tonight. 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the encouraging and complimentary words- so appreciated. The kudos too. 
> 
> Some of you may have noted that I've placed the end chapter up- this story continues with the two of them in Portland. They reveal even more about themselves to each other, a real relationship starts although there's a few bumps in the road. 
> 
> Hope you stick around for it.


	14. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin spends Thanksgiving with Christen. They enjoy their time together, Tobin bringing over something that is definitely not a pack of cards or a board game for them to play. Christen fills Tobin in on what's going on with Monica, wanting her to be aware.

November 26, 2025 

Day 27 

It’s 1:05 when Christen hears her doorbell chime. She smiles as she leaves the kitchen to answer it. Her morning was a little hectic, waking early, doing her yoga and meditation, reveling in being back in her routine, then making a list to start her day. She got Tobin’s laundry started, showered, hit the grocery store, straightened up the house, not that it needed it, but she felt compelled to give it a once over, then started cooking. She had a light lunch around eleven, timing to eat at two. 

She had picked up Morena and Kahleesi at her friend’s house last night, texting Jen who had been keeping them for her. She visited with her for a little bit, trying not to gush about Tobin but failing miserably, showing Jen the texts from Monica and her plan to speak to the Police about getting an order of protection. 

She had some time to kill, the roast was in the oven, vegetables cooking with the beef. She had set the table, everything was ready. She was unsure what Tobin would want to drink, so she purchased a few different fresh juices, made sure she had some Lipton tea, some cream, organic milk and even some soda in the house along with some beers. 

She finished up drying Tobin’s clothes, started doing her own laundry and then ended up watching some older US Soccer videos while she packed Tobin’s clothes back in her backpack and duffel bag, enjoying the New Kids ones, smiling as she saw such a young Tobin, how laid back and carefree she was. Not much had changed, her personality was still there, she’s definitely matured, but it was wild seeing her grow up in the handful of videos she watched. How cool is that for her family to see, she thinks as she shuts her laptop off, sliding it back to it’s place in the nook of her kitchen. 

She was double checking her dessert situation, eying the chocolate cream pie she purchased on impulse, when the doorbell chimed. She shut the fridge and was off. 

She opens the door to a smiling Tobin, who’s shoving a handful of fresh flowers at her, “Happy Thanksgiving,” she greets. 

“Oh! Chrysanthemum morifolium! These are beautiful! Thank you!” Christen exclaims, touched by the thoughtful bouquet, “Happy Thanksgiving, Tobin,” she says, moving to the side and ordering the dogs to back away and let Tobin in. 

Her eyebrows raise when she sees Tobin pulling a rolling suitcase, “Staying while?” She questions, her face twitching with a smirk. 

Tobin hands her jacket to her, slowly bending to pet the dogs, looking up at her, “Zip it,” she grins back at her, “and before you say it, I tipped my Uber driver to load and unload this thing,” She straightens up, “Your puppies are so cute,” she says, reaching to hug her, “but not as cute as you.” 

“Smooth, Heath,” Christen says, pointing to the bench near her door, “do you need a hand getting your boots off?” 

“I’m good,” Tobin nods, bending a leg and unzipping the side, then kicking it off. She repeats the moves on her other boot, “thanks though.” 

“Come on in,” Christen says, “you can leave your luggage by the door,” she shakes her head, having no clue what Tobin could have in there. 

“It smells amazing in here,” Tobin says as they enter the kitchen, “what are we eating, I’m starving.” 

“Well,” Christen begins, “I couldn’t find any fresh lamb this morning, so I made a pot roast instead,” she pulls out a vase from a lower cabinet, smiling as she arranges the flowers. 

Tobin’s eyes pop open, “Pot roast?” she says, a smile forming, “I love pot roast,” she says, “it’s like the ultimate comfort food.” 

Christen nods with her, smiling, happy that Tobin is excited about the dish, “That’s what I thought.” 

“Do you need help with anything?” Tobin inquires, looking around the kitchen.” 

“Yeah,” Christen nods, moving to the fridge, “I need your help eating this salad,” she says as she removes a bowl and sets it on the counter, “pick out a dressing and I’ll met you at the table.” 

Tobin glances over and sees two filled water glasses on the table, nodding as she opens the fridge, “Which dressing would you like?” 

“I like them all, so whatever you pick is fine,” Christen replies, dishing out the leafy greens into two bowls. 

Tobin selects one and sits across from Christen at the table, offering her the dressing. Christen opens it and drizzles some over her salad, looking up to pass it back and sees Tobin with her head bent, fingers interlaced, looking down with her eyes closed. Christen pauses a moment when Tobin lifts her head, opening her eyes and smiling at her and accepts the bottle. 

They talk about the first things they did when they got home, Tobin opting to shower and get into her comfiest sweats and write in her journal, Christen, play with her dogs and watch some mindless TV. At her mention of Kahleesi and Morena pad into the kitchen, Morena sitting down next to Tobin looking up at her expectantly, Kahleesi near Christen.   
Tobin drops her hand to stroke the dog’s head, “She’s really cute,” she says, scratching behind her ears, “so well behaved,” 

“Don’t be fooled,” Christen rolls her eyes, “they’re being sweet to you now, so you’ll give in and give them food later,” 

“Do they eat people food?” Tobin inquires as she forks her salad, looking at Christen as she chews. 

“Just a little bit,” Christen says, “not a lot and no candy,” she replies, happy that Tobin is taking an interest in her pets. Monica tolerated the dogs, never wanting them on the couch or in bed. She imagines Tobin would welcome it. 

“Noted,” Tobin smiles at her and then looks down petting Morena again, “good girl,” she smiles at the dog.

They continue talking at the table after finishing their salads, discussing how Christen found her passion for biology. Christen is telling her how she was fascinated with the plants at her house when she was a child and how she had an amazing science teacher in sixth grade who took her interest to another level. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask this,” Tobin says, “how did you get tenured so quickly? I always thought it took quite a few years for that to happen,” 

Christen nods, having answered this question many times, even to her peers at the university. “Well,” she says, taking another sip of water, “it started in grade school, actually,” she says, her lips curling into a smile. 

“I skipped two grades,” Christen says, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, “I graduated high school early and took my first college classes while I lived at home, my parents didn’t want to send me away just yet.” 

Tobin is mimicking her pose, elbows on the table, fascinated by her story. “How old were you?” 

“I was sixteen,” Christen replies, “I actually attended Stanford my sophomore year.” Christen waits for the typical response like, wow, you were so young, or being teased about being so smart. 

Tobin looks at her with a mix of thoughtfulness and sadness, “That had to be very hard Chris,” she says slowly, “being on your own that young with that type of pressure.” 

It’s the first time that anyone, besides her family, has acknowledged that such a transition, that’s stressful to most eighteen year olds, was even worse for an impressionable, high strung sixteen year old. Christen smiles at her, thinking that Tobin would, of course, be that perceptive to think that way, with her being on her own at soccer camps and traveling with her teams from such a young age. 

She nods, acknowledging Tobin’s statement, “I had a few very special people there who helped me navigate my way through my college experience,” she says, “one of my classmates in high school, his name is Nima, he had graduated the year before and was at Stanford. We were friends, he was always looking out for me, making sure I wasn’t harassed, I knew how to handle myself,” she rolls her eyes, “as well as I could at the time,” she says, “but he really was like the big brother I never had,” she smiles, “he still is.” 

“You guys talk still?” Tobin asks, a small smile on her face, happy that Christen’s first year on campus wasn’t sounding like a complete disaster. 

“Oh yeah,” Christen smiles, “we talk almost everyday,” she says, “he’s married and has a wonderful wife and they live in Seattle.” She shakes her head, “He was the one who took me to my first party where I had my first drink,” she remembers, “but it was Kelley who showed me how to party.” 

“Kelley?” Tobin questions, tilting her head. 

“The soccer player,” Christen explains, “the one who talked to me about seeing a counselor. She was a madwoman, a party animal,” she says, “and yet she pulled awesome grades and did really well for herself at soccer.” 

“You still talk to her?” Tobin inquires, a suspicion forming in her head. 

Christen shakes her head, “We kind of lost touch,” she explains, “she wasn’t around a whole a lot her junior and senior year and I was deep in my thesis paper by then.” 

Tobin straightens up, “Wait, what? Your thesis?” 

“I went full time all year round,” Christen shrugs, “I had a scholarship, it was free, so why not?” 

“So, you have a Masters?” Tobin asks, impressed. 

“And I received my doctorate this summer,” Christen replies, then shrugs, “I wanted to knock it out early,” 

“Wow!” Tobin shakes her head, “So, you’re finally done with school now?” she smiles. 

Christen smiles back, grateful Tobin isn’t asking a million questions of why she would push herself to do go through such a program while teaching full time. She senses that she just gets it, she gets that drive, that determination to fulfill certain goals. 

“For now,” Christen smiles back, “unless something else seizes my attention,” 

Tobin just nods, “Funny how those things can take over,” she grins. 

She gives her a rueful grin, “Anyway, you might know her,” she says, “Kelley.” 

“Let me guess,” Tobin smiles broadly, “O’hara.” 

Christen grins wildly, “Yes!” 

“What a small world!” Tobin laughs, “Chris,” she says, shaking her head, “she’s one of my best friends.” 

“No way! Really?” Christen lets her mouth fall open, “That’s amazing,” she says, “although I’m not sure if she would really remember me, I mean, she was so popular.” 

“I’ll ask her,” Tobin wiggles her eyebrows, “should I Facetime her now?” 

“No!” Christen screeches, waving her hands, “Please, I’d be so embarrassed to face her if she didn’t remember,” 

“Alright,” Tobin chuckles, “I’ll ask her later, just me.” 

“That’s better.” Christen says, glancing at the oven, seeing the timer, “Dinner should be ready in a couple of minutes,” she says, standing up and taking her bowl in hand, “I need to feed the girls,” 

Tobin follows her, carrying her bowl as well, offering to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. 

 

 

“That was so delicious,” Tobin says, rubbing her stomach, “I haven’t had a pot roast in so long,” she sighs, “thanks so much for having me over today,” 

“It’s nice having you here,” Christen shares with a smile as she puts the remaining leftovers in the fridge, “let’s go sit,” she suggests, “you want something to drink?” 

“A water would be perfect,” Tobin says, leaning up against the counter. “I was so happy to see you had that milk,” she says, “I love it.” 

“Me too,” Christen agrees, “I don’t drink a ton of it, but when I do, it has to be ice cold and in a glass, not plastic.” 

“Same,” Tobin nods, taking the cold water bottle from Christen’s hand, “thanks,” she says, following her to the living room. 

They sit at opposite ends of the couch, Morena immediately jumping up on the cushions and settling herself next to Tobin with her head on her lap. Tobin looks over at an amused Christen, “Should she be up here?” 

“It’s fine,” Christen nods, “I like to snuggle with them,” she says, “you can push her off if she’s bothering you.” 

“Oh, no!” Tobin shakes her head, “I just wasn’t sure if you allowed them on the furniture,” she strokes the dog’s head, “I like dogs,” she smiles down as Morena squirms to get comfortable. Kahleesi sits in front of Tobin, staring at her. Tobin slowly sticks her hand out, the dog sniffing it and then nudges her fist, so Tobin scratches her head. Kahleesi stands up, licks Tobin’s hand and gets on the couch next to Christen. 

Christen finds the weather channel to check in on the temperature, both of them comfortable to watch the forecast and then gets up to let the dogs outside for a little bit. When she returns to the couch, she stands in front of Tobin, eying her. 

Tobin looks up, her eyebrows raised in question. 

“What’s in the suitcase?” Christen asks, her eyes big and curious. Tobin smiles, “You want to know?”

Christen nods her head quickly and repeatedly. Tobin chuckles and holds her hand out for Christen to help her up. She walks to the suitcase, Christen following closely behind, Tobin stopping abruptly on purpose for her to bump into her back. She turns her head to smirk at her, “Eager, much?” she smiles. 

Christen just huffs and elbows past her, taking the suitcase and bringing it to the bare kitchen table. “Should I set it on it’s side?” she questions, looking at Tobin who hasn’t stopped grinning. “Yeah, maybe on a chair,” she suggests. 

Christen carefully lift s the suitcase on the chair Tobin pulled out, it’s not very heavy. “Alright,” she says, “open it!” 

Tobin chuckles again, “Man, you must be a treat at Christmas!” 

She puts her hand on her hip, “We all open one gift at a time, it’s very orderly.” 

“I suppose you’re yelling at your sisters to hurry up,” Tobin smiles at her. 

“I do not!” Christen argues, her cheeks growing red, because she totally does. 

Tobin works the zipper, opening the suitcase, her body shielding the contents. She lifts out a tablecloth and spreads it on the table. 

“What type of game is this?” Christen questions, thinking for a moment that Tobin might bring over a suitcase full of Legos or something. 

“Well,” Tobin says, her hand on something that’s blocked from her view, “it isn’t a game, really.” 

“Aw,” Christen frowns, “I wanted to crush you tonight,” 

Tobin looks at her, “Crush me? Really?” 

Christen gives her a toothy smile, “In the nicest way of course,” 

Tobin shakes her head and begins to set small tubes on the table, then some paper plates and as she sets out a handful of brushes, Christen realizes than Tobin brought over painting supplies. Tobin lifts two 8” x 10” canvasses from the suitcase and sets them on the table. 

Tobin glances at Christen and must see something in her expression because she then looks at her with some doubt, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” she says almost apologetically. 

“No, it’s fine,” Christen says quickly, “I just, it just took me by surprise,” she smiles at her, “I’m fine to try this as long as you promise not to laugh at how bad I am,” 

Tobin steps closer and slips her arm around Christen’s shoulders, pressing her close against her, “That’s the great thing about art,” she says quietly, “there’s no right or wrong, if it doesn’t come out how you like, you just say it’s an abstract or impressionist painting,” she grins at her, trying to set her at ease. 

It works. Christen smiles, looking into those warm, kind eyes, “This is pretty cool,” she admits, “let’s do it.” 

Tobin pulls her into a hug, “Awesome,” she says against Christen’s neck, “I can’t wait,” 

They separate and Tobin slides out a chair and guides Christen to sit down. Christen looks up and sees Tobin grinning at her as she sits down next to her, pulling the chair with the suitcase closer to herself. She pulls out two plastic cups, setting one in front of each of them, Christen squinting to see it’s from some music fest in Portland from two years ago. Tobin’s busy sorting paint brushes into two piles, then she passes them towards her. 

“Would you please put some water in each cup?” Tobin asks, “About half full,” 

“Yeah, sure,” Christen agrees, pushing her chair back and returning quickly with the water. She sits down, reaching over to place Tobin’s cup where she had it before. She watches as Tobin brings out a sketchbook, some pencils and a couple of dish towels spotted with paint. She’s smiling gently as she sees Tobin pull out some other items, stacking them next to herself, taking a deep breath and then glancing over at her. 

“You ready for this?” she asks, a small smile on her face. 

“Most definitely,” Christen replies enthusiastically, grinning at her. 

“So,” Tobin begins, slightly turning to look at her, “what’s your level of experience with painting?” 

“Um,” Christen considers, “definitely grade school.” 

Tobin nods, biting her lower lip, “Okay,” she says, “I can work with that,” she flashes a grin, “so, you know primary and secondary colors, right?” 

Christen nods affirmatively, still smiling. 

“Okay, so the secondary colors come from mixing different primary colors together, then you can add white for lighter shades and black for darker tones.” Tobin says, “Stop me if you think I’m like, talking down to you or anything,” she says earnestly. 

“No, no,” Christen shakes her head, resting her elbow on the table and bringing her hand up to support her head, “I would prefer if you start at the beginning,” she says, “then I have a complete picture of what you’re trying to teach me.” 

Tobin nods again and picks up a color wheel, showing her how the colors are formed and then talking about shading and how she can decide if she wants her painting to be in two or three dimensions and if she wanted shadows or not. 

From there she puts some paint on her plate, showing examples of the brushes and what their strokes look like and how she can choose different ones. She shows her the ones she uses the most and paints silly little doodles on a sheet of paper from the sketchbook. 

She uses her phone to show Christen examples of realism, impressionism and other styles. 

“Can I see some of your works?” Christen asks seriously, “Do you have photos of them?” 

“Well,” Tobin hedges, showing some nervousness, “like I said, I’m a soccer player, not an artist,” she says, “so these aren’t like, that amazing or anything,” She bites her lip as she navigates through her phone and pulls up an album, handing the phone over for Christen to look at. 

Once again, as soon as she sees Tobin’s first photo of a painting of hers, Christen knows Tobin was just being humble about her talent. Every photo she swipes through, Christen can feel a pull of emotion, whether it’s happy, sad, contemplative or serene, Tobin manages to capture a certain essence in each piece she created. 

“Tobin,” she murmurs, her eyes on a realistic nature scene, “this is beautiful,” she glances over to see Tobin nervously thrumming her pencil tip on the sketchbook and her leg bouncing rapidly. 

“Thanks,” she says, using her other hand to run though her hair. 

Christen silently hands the phone back to her, “So, where do we begin?” she asks. 

“Well,” Tobin says a little unsure of herself, “we begin with whatever you want to paint,” she looks at her, “it can be an abstract, or like a still life type thing or do you have any ideas?” 

“What about we paint something we want to remember about our time on Vancouver Island?” Christen asks, thinking that would be a cool memory to have. 

Tobin smiles at her, “That sounds pretty rad,” she says, “okay,” she rips out a sheet of paper and hands it to her with a pencil, “so, we can think about what we want to paint, sketch it out, figure out if that’s what you want and then we’ll go from there.” 

“Is it cool if I put on some music?” Christen asks, waiting for Tobin to nod before getting up and grabbing her phone and turning on her sound system. 

She lets the dogs in the house, taking a moment to wipe their paws before letting them loose. Immediately they both come to Tobin’s side, pawing at her legs. As Tobin pets them, speaking to them as she does, Christen is practically glowing with joy. 

She settles back in her chair, thinking about what scene she would want to try and paint. She glances over and sees Tobin staring at her paper, tapping the end of her pencil against her lower lip, humming to herself. Christen watches carefully, seeing how Tobin’s eye dance across the blank piece of paper, nodding to herself and making a low clucking noise with mouth as she envisions her work. Then, when she starts, it’s swiftly with long strokes of her pencil, making blocks and circles and lines and Christen can’t make out what it is she’s doing but Tobin seems sure of herself. 

She turns to focus on her own piece, wanting the main point to be the kitchen on the cove, showing the shoreline at low tide with the gill net and the smoker and stream in the distance with the high mountains behind and a little bit of sky at the top. 

She dismisses the self-doubt that’s rising, fighting to just let herself enjoy this and do her best and let Tobin assist her when she needs it. She’s still working on where she wants to place her important items to show when she hears Tobin moving next to her, squirting bits of paint of her paper plate, her head bobbing to the music. 

She sees Christen looking at her out of the corner of her eye and she turns to smile at her, “Everything good?” 

“Yep,” she replies, smiling at her, “almost finished with my drawing,” she says, bumping her shoulder against her, “this is fun,” she says genuinely, “thanks for bringing this over.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin looks at her, making sure she is, in fact, having some fun. She grins at her when she realizes that Christen is being honest and not just humoring her. 

“Yeah,” Christen nods, “I can’t wait to get started.” 

 

Soon they’re both painting, Christen using careful strokes while Tobin moves her brush with long, lazy strokes, then plunges her brush into the paint, dipping a little color on it, then mixing it with another. She asks Tobin if she should do the back ground first and Tobin explains how she does it with her own work, demonstrating how she filled in her sky, shading the blues. Satisfied she knows how to do what she wants, Christen begins. 

Once again, the two work silently, totally involved in their projects, yet enjoying the presence of each other. After two hours of working, Christen sets down her brush, arching her back to stretch it a little. “Hey,” she says, nudging Tobin, “what do you say about having some dessert?” 

Tobin looks at her with dazed eyes, blinking them rapidly as she looks at her, “Huh?” 

I’ve just witnessed Tobin leaving her zone, Christen thinks to herself, knowing that feeling when she’s interrupted when she’s writing a paper. 

“I asked if you want to take a break and have some dessert?” she repeats. 

“Oh,” Tobin shakes her head a little, “sure,” she smiles. She arches her back, wincing a little as she twists in her chair. She moves her hand to her right side, holding it there. 

“You alright?” Christen asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as she rises from her chair. 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies, “it’s just tight,” she pushes her chair back and stands as well. 

“Did you bring a pain pill?” Christen asks as she opens the fridge to remove the chocolate cream pie she just could not resist when she saw it at the store. 

“Nah,” Tobin says, shuffling behind her, “I didn’t want to be spacey,” 

“Well,” Christen turns to face her, pie in hand, “I’ve got some Tylenol, why don’t you take a couple?” 

“I think I will,” Tobin agrees, “thanks,” she says, shifting her balance. “Is that a chocolate pie?” she exclaims, inching closer to her. 

“Uh huh,” Christen smiles big, teeth showing, “and you’re going to have to help me eat this whole thing.” 

“Well, I can eat maybe two pieces,” Tobin says, “anymore and I’ll be puking sick.” She scrunches her face. 

“Well, I’ve seen that,” Christen smirks, “so you have a two piece maximum rule.” 

“Oh, you’ve jokes Press?” Tobin chuckles, shaking her head. 

“I do, Heath,” Christen says, cutting a slice for each of them, “what are you going to do about it?” 

She gives her a crooked smile, full of amusement, “I guess eat only two pieces of pie,” she snickers. 

They eat their dessert back at the table, talking about their paintings. Christen has surprised herself in that hers looks fairly recognizable. 

“And you said you couldn’t paint,” Tobin shakes her head, clearly impressed with Christen’s effort. 

Christen shrugs, smiling at her, “I guess I just needed the right teacher,” she says flirtatiously, her eyes roaming over Tobin. 

Tobin hands her plate to Christen, shaking her head, “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she smirks, “come on, let’s finish these.” 

Christen just sets the plates aside, eager to get back to painting. 

An hour later, they stand by side, looking at their finished pieces that are now on the kitchen counter, propped up on an angle with a couple of books. 

“You did a great job,” Tobin murmurs, leaning forward to look at her piece, “there’s so much detail.” 

“Thanks,” Christen is blushing as she watches how Tobin’s eyes crawl over her work. “Yours is pretty awesome,” she says, shifting her gaze at Tobin’s painting. Her scene is from later in their stay, a snow covered foreground, the shelter nestled in between the rocks, the sweat lodge they created standing to the side. 

She slides her arm around Tobin’s waist and when Tobin turns to look at her, she leans in and kisses her. Tobin returns the kiss, turning to face her, putting her arms around her, as Christen insistently kisses her deeply. 

“Tobin,” she says quietly, “I want to show you something,” she releases her, but catches her hand and guides her to the couch, indicating that she should sit down. She retrieves her phone and sits next to her. 

She opens her phone and looks through her texts, scrolling to find the thread she wants. She keeps scrolling for a moment, then looks up at Tobin.

“I want you to know what’s going on with Monica,” she begins, “if there’s the chance of something between us, I want you to be aware. Especially since you’ve had some experience in dealing with stalkers.” She frowns. “I told you how she started being a bit possessive, assuming things about me and for me. Constantly checking on where I was, what I was doing, who I was with. The beginning of October was filled with us arguing over everything and then she suddenly wants to move in with me. I told her no and that’s when things got even worse. Before I left for the trip, I told her we were through.” She glances down at her phone, “I want you to read this,” she says, handing the phone over to her, “there’s no way I’m ever contacting her. I don’t know if she’s doing drugs or has some serious mental issues, but I don’t ever want to see or speak with her again.” 

Christen turns to face Tobin as she reads the texts, watching as Tobin’s expression changes over the course of the increasing disturbing messages. When Tobin finishes and looks at Christen, her face is stony and hard. 

“Chris,” she says, frowning as she looks at her, “this is pretty messed up.” 

Christen nods solemnly, “I’m comforted in the fact that right now she doesn’t know I’m home. I told her it was a three month trip and I would be back at the end of January.” 

Tobin glances down at the phone still in her hands, then back up to her, “Have you considered getting the Police involved?” 

Christen nods, “And campus security.” Tobin nods, looking thoughtful. Christen takes the phone from Tobin’s hands, setting it on the end table. She scoots a little closer to her, on her knees, a hand on the back of the couch cushion. She brings her other hand up to cup Tobin’s jaw, looking at her tenderly. 

“So, know when I say I’m yours,” she says softly, her voice low and husky, full of desire, “I. Am. Yours.” She punctuates each word with a kiss, each one growing firmer and lasting longer. 

Tobin nods slowly as she opens her eyes, “Okay,” she says, twisting to her side and bringing her hand up to caress Christen’s shoulder. They kiss again, this time with more urgency, hands slowly roaming over each other. She spreads her legs as she feels Christen lift her knee to slot it in between and lean forward, pressing against her.

Tobin slowly falls back on to the couch cushions, Christen on top. As Tobin twists her on her back, Christen loses her balance and her elbow lands on Tobin’s side. Tobin yelps in pain, jerking her head; their chins colliding as she groans out in pain. 

Christen springs off her, “I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, kneeling next to the couch, her hand on Tobin’s shoulder. Tobin has rolled to her side, gasping for breath. 

“Oh,” Tobin groans, breathing heavy, “s’okay,” she pants, her eyes tightly shut, forehead furrowed. Kahleesi and Morena are immediately by the couch, Morena with her paws on the cushion, licking at Tobin’s face. 

“Girls! Go lay down!” Christen orders sharply, the dogs retreating near the TV lying down the floor. Christen’s vision is blurry because of the tears in her eyes, feeling just awful for hurting Tobin, “I’m sorry,” she says, her chest hitching, willing herself not to begin crying. She brings her hands to her face, upset with her carelessness. She feels something bump her forearm and she drops her hands, seeing Tobin is blindly reaching out to her with her free hand. She takes it, grasping it tightly. 

“M’okay,” Tobin mumbles, still breathing deeply, “need a minute,” 

“Okay, okay,” Christen says, “do you think you’re bleeding?” 

“Don’t know,” Tobin says, clearing her throat, “help me up?” 

Christen stands and slowly pulls her to a sitting position. Tobin still has her left hand over her right side, slowly blinking and letting out a deep breath. 

Christen sits next to her, still holding her hand. “Are you okay?” 

Tobin nods, releasing her grip on Christen’s hand to wipe under her nose. “Yeah,” she says, her voice rough and low, “just surprised me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Christen repeats, feeling she can’t say it enough. 

Tobin just shakes her head, a pained smile playing at her lips, “Chris, it’s alright,” she says, “it was an accident,”

“Let me look,” Christen insists, pulling at Tobin’s sweater. Tobin helps her lift the material and the shirt beneath, looking to see the steri-strip bandages still intact on her three incisions. 

“Oh, thank God,” Christen breathes out loudly, looking up from Tobin’s side to her face, seeing the pain in her eyes. 

“Okay,” she says decisively, getting up rom the couch, “I’m taking you home.” 

“Chris, it’s okay,” Tobin insists, holding on to her hand, “I’m alright.” 

“Tobin,” Christen says, “we can still hang out,” she assures her, “I just want you to take a pain pill,” she extends her hand to help Tobin off the couch, watching as Tobin winces. “See?” she proves her point. 

“Okay,” Tobin sighs, “that’s probably the best thing to do,” she agrees, 

Christen allows Tobin to pack her art supplies, while she loads her car with Tobin’s pack and duffel bag. She comes back in and takes the suitcase as well and gets it in her car. When she comes in, Tobin is slowly getting her jacket on. Christen sees she has her boots on, unzipped and lets it go. 

“Do you want to bring the puppies?” Tobin asks, a hopeful look on her face. 

“I don’t know,” Christen hedges, “it’s a lot of stuff to bring in and I don’t have their bag packed.” 

“Next time,” Tobin nods, “promise?” 

Christen smiles, thankful for her understanding and not pushing it, “Promise,” she agrees. 

They hold hands in the car on the twenty minute drive to Tobin’s place, Tobin has her drive to the resident entrance, leaning forward when the security tells Christen she can’t park here. 

“Hey, Jerry!” Tobin greets, “Any spots open tonight?” 

“Hey, Tobin!” he smiles, “Haven’t seen you around in a while, kiddo, how are you?” 

“Doing good, thanks,” she replies. 

“Second level, bunch of spots,” he nods, handing a cardboard placard to Christen and pressing the button to lift the metal arm and Christen slowly proceeds into the parking facility. 

“Wow,” she says as she guides the car up a level, “indoor parking, nice.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “the security here is really good,” she says. She points, “There’s a spot, right by the elevator.” 

Christen shrugs on Tobin’s pack and carries her duffel while Tobin wheels her suitcase onto the elevator. Christen still feels terrible, silently following Tobin with her eyes downcast. She feels Tobin nudge her arm, “Hey,” she says quietly as the elevator hums while it rises to the sixth floor, “I’m fine,” 

Christen gives her a sickly smile, unconvinced. 

They get to her place, Tobin letting her enter first, having her follow her to her bedroom to put the pack and duffel bag on the floor. 

“Give me a sec,” Tobin says, “I want to get my pill,” she says, abandoning the suitcase near the bedroom door and entering the master bathroom. She pops out a moment later as Christen scans her bedroom, looking at the natural wood furniture, her cream colored comforter. 

“Very nice,” Christen comments, nodding approvingly.

“Thanks,” Tobin says hurriedly, “here, let me take your coat,” she says as she shrugs out of her own, leading her out of the room to a closet near the door. They get the coats hung, then Tobin kicks off her boots and pads down the hallway, flicking on lights as she goes. 

She heads to the kitchen, looking at Christen as she grabs a kettle and fills it. “I was going to make some tea,” she says, “would you like some or something else to drink? Coffee? Milk?” she asks using an array of silly voices and accents. “Orange juice? Apple juice? A beer? A bourbon? A smoothie? Ovaltine?” 

Christen cracks a smile at Tobin’s silliness in spite of how horrible she still feels for hurting her. Tobin lights the stove, a flame flickering under the kettle and she moves to stand in front of the upset woman.

“Chris,” Tobin says seriously, “I’m fine,” she says, “yeah, it’s a little sore, but I’ll be fine in a little bit. And I see my doctor tomorrow, so please, stop worrying, and please,” she brings her hands together in a prayer like manner, her eyes pleading, “please stop feeling bad.” 

Christen nods, “I’m just sorry how it happened,” she says quietly, willing herself to get over it. 

Tobin turns to get a mug from her cabinet, grinning at her. 

“Hey, I got it,” she says, “Press likes it a little rough,” she smiles nodding her head, “noted.” 

Christen chuckles, “You’ve got jokes, Heath?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got jokes, Press,” Tobin snickers, her eyes bubbling with amusement. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“Not cause you bodily harm when I’m trying to seduce you,” Christen responds, her eyes now dancing, feeling much better. 

“Good!” Tobin laughs as she sets her mug down, “so, a drink?” 

“I’ll have some tea,” Christen says, finally relaxing, “that sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like a broken record repeating this, but I do appreciate the kudos and comments so much. 
> 
> I'm working on the final chapter to this tale and it's making me a little emotional. (In a good way.) 
> 
>  
> 
> Just for fun, let's play a little game: what would you think would be an interesting and thoughtful gift to each other be for Tobin and Christen to exchange? 
> 
> A special chapter shout out to whoever inspires me! 
> 
> Thanks again y'all!


	15. Back To Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen meets Tobin's friends at a viewing for the their show.

November 27, 2015 

Day 28 

 

Tobin lies in bed, a smile on her face as she remembers how last night ended. Christen stayed for a couple of hours, the two falling back into their easy conversation. When Tobin had given her the short tour of her place, she showed her Alex’s room, explaining how they were roommates. 

 

_When they sat down, she felt compelled to tell her the story of the two of them. From teammates to friends to best friends, how they’ve known each other since they were teenagers, how they were super close. She told her how Alex just gets her, she’s her person, like Lauren and Amy are. They were supportive of each other as they struggled through their growing fame, Alex feeling the pressure so much more than Tobin. She told her about the Talex signs, the chatter that were dating, sleeping together when the truth was, they were just best friends._

_“It seems like people misinterpret being close to automatically sleeping with someone,” Tobin stated, frowning, “I guess her and I must hug too much or something and people get the wrong impression or something,” she shakes her head, “I don’t get it, but that’s how it is. I mean, she’s been with Servando since college, they’re gonna get married one day._

_She’s like, as straight as a ruler. But people still think we’re sleeping together.”_

_Christen’s lip turned into a sardonic smirk, enjoying toying with her now, “Any other skeletons I need to know about?”_

_“None,” Tobin replied seriously, missing that Christen is playing with her. “I swear.” She answered quickly, feeling her palms sweating._

_“No unpaid parking tickets? No team orgies in the locker room or anything?” Christen finally giggled._

_Tobin finally got it, sighing at her, “You had me going,”_

_“You’re slow, Heath,” Christen laughed, then grew serious, “but thank you for telling me now,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, “seriously, thank you for sharing this now instead of right before or after I ever meet Alex.”_

_“I’d hate for you to have any weird vibes or mixed signals.” Tobin explained, scratching at her neck, “I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” she said, “we’re both kinda touchy feely, and,” she paused, looking down and then up at her, “I really like you and I don’t want to mess this up.”_

_“I really like you, too and right now I’d like to kiss you silly, but I’m a little afraid I’ll break you if we do that on this couch,” Christen grinned, her eyes sparkling, “so why don’t you stand up so I can show you just how much I like you.”_

_They made out for a while, Tobin nearly losing control and escalating things but Christen always slowed them down. When they broke free to breath, Christen grinned at her, “You better heal up fast Heath,” she ordered, “I don’t know how long I can hold out.”_

_“I feel the same way,” Tobin sighed, rubbing Christen’s shoulder tenderly, “believe me.”_

 

Still grinning, Tobin slides out of her bed, heading to the bathroom to begin her day. She showers, gets dressed, eats breakfast, happy her side isn’t as tender. She notes the time and decides to grab a coffee on her way to Providence Park. 

She sends Christen a good morning text, smiling at her reply. Today’s a good day. They made plans to meet for lunch since neither of them had much going on. Maybe they would hit a museum or something and then go to dinner. 

She makes her phone calls, first to her Mom and then to her siblings, bringing them up to date on her experience in the woods and her emergency surgery. She notifies her agent, then texts Mark, her coach, then the National Team crew. 

She takes a few minutes to write in her personal notebook the date of her surgery under the medical history tab. 

She scribbles a few things down in her journal, rehashing her day with Christen and her thoughts about it. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“That had to be scary, Tobin,” Dr. Brown states, shaking her head, “everything looks good, I’d say another few days and you can start slow on the cardio. No heavy lifting until the stitches dissolve- the steri-strips with peel off when they’re ready. Don’t you peel them early.” 

“Sounds good,” Tobin nods, “I don’t want to chance anything,” she says. 

“I’ll send this over to the head trainer and they’ll be in contact for your conditioning program,” she states, “until you hear from him, just take it easy.” 

“Okay,” Tobin says, “thanks.” 

“Oh, and I’m sorry this took you out early, we were all rooting for you.” She smiles warmly at her. 

“Thanks,” Tobin says as she puts her shirt back on. 

As she makes her way out of the office, intending to stop by the training room, she hears a loud bang and a voice. 

“Harry!” Allie yells, running to meet her, “You’re back!” 

Tobin backs up, putting her hands in front of herself, knowing Allie wants to jump on her, “Wait, wait wait!” she says, backing up to avoid her. 

Allie stops, looking at her, “Are you hurt?” she asks quietly, “Did you get hurt out there?” 

Tobin sighs, “Something like that,” she replies, “what are you doing here?” 

“I got in last night, so I came here for recovery. I’m done, wanna go get some coffee? You can tell me about your trip.” Allie suggests, nodding encouragingly. 

“I’ve got some time,” Tobin nods, “how was the last match?” 

“Eh,” Allie shrugs, “it was Abby’s last, so there was a lot of media,” she makes a face, “Abby was trying so hard not to lose her shit knowing she went out on a loss. Kinda hard to be too upset with how crazy she’s been.” 

Tobin shakes her head, “End of an era,” she says quietly.

“So, seriously, are you okay?” Allie asks as the hit the doors open to the player exit. 

“No,” Tobin replies, “I had surgery,” 

Allie stops in her tracks, “Tobin!” she cries, “What happened?” 

“Appendix.” Tobin mutters, “I lasted for twenty-two days.” She frowns. 

“I’m sorry,” Allie says genuinely, gently side hugging her as they walk, “are you in pain? Was it painful?” 

“I was in agony,” Tobin admits, “it was horrible.” 

“Oh,” Allie squeezes her closer, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says dejectedly, shrugging, “it’s not so bad, I guess, wish we coulda stayed longer, but whatever.” 

Allie reaches and opens the door to the coffee shop for Tobin and Tobin leads them to the order station. They get their drinks, finding a table against the wall. It’s not too crowded and Tobin is grateful for it.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Allie asks brightly, looking at her. 

“Uh,” Tobin shifts in her seat, “I have plans,” 

“What?” Allie asks loudly, Tobin cringing at the noise, “Settle down,” 

“Well, you have to change them,” Allie insists, “your show is on, we’re having a watch party and you have to be there.” Tobin had no idea the show would start this quickly. She really hadn’t read the email Lisa sent her about the airing dates. 

“Uh,” Tobin replies, dumbly, not knowing how to get out of this, “I don’t know Al,” she says, unsure of it. 

“Tobin Powell Heath!” Allie chastises her, “You have to be there!” She urges her. 

Tobin glances around, “Will you keep it down?” she hisses at her, “People are looking at us,” she says, glaring at her. 

Allie smirks at her, “Say you’ll be there.” 

“Allie,” Tobin says, frustrated, “come on!” 

Allie pulls out her phone, swiping the screen and beginning to text.

“What are you doing?” Tobin asks, reaching across the table and grabbing her hand. 

“Texting the gals that you’re back,” she replies primly. She hits send with satisfaction. 

“Al!” Tobin says, her voice rising. 

“Why haven’t you let us know you’re back?” Allie asks, her eyes narrowing on her. 

Tobin glares at her, “Because I felt like shit and I wanted to be alone,” she says, her words clipped. 

Allie leans back in her chair, looking at her. “When?” 

“Uh,” Tobin thinks, “Wednesday night.”

“What did you do yesterday?” Allie asks, “Just lay around?” 

Tobin really wants to just end this conversation, she isn’t ready to have it yet, but she can’t lie to Allie. 

“I was with a friend,” she replies quietly. 

Allie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who?”

Tobin shakes her head, “Not here,” she says quietly, seeing Allie nod. Just when she thinks she’s bought some time and can relax and catch up with Allie, Allie abruptly stands, grabbing their drinks and exchanging the mugs for to go cups. 

“Ready?” Allie asks, grabbing her coat and looking at Tobin expectantly. Tobin sighs and stands up, putting on her jacket. 

Once out the door on the sidewalk, Allie starts in, “So, what’s their name and how did you meet?” 

“Her name is Christen and we met on the show, she was my partner, the survival pro.” Tobin replies. 

“And she came here with you? Is she staying with you?” Allie asks, grabbing Tobin’s arm. 

“Geez, Harry!” Tobin jerks her arm away, “Take it down a notch, will ya?” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Allie exclaims, raising a hand and making a face, then she looks at Tobin, “Tell me all about her,” she says, “please? I’m excited for you,” she gives her a smile. 

Tobin nods, Allie knows the whole story about her and Shirley, Tobin learned right before she left that Alex had confided in her. Allie came to her, full of concern, making sure Tobin was doing alright. She’s excited Tobin is showing interest in someone new. 

“She’s a professor and teaches at U of Portland,” Tobin begins, “she’s super nice and really funny,” Tobin smiles, “half the time I’m not sure when she’s pulling my leg,” she shrugs, “So, being out there with her was really awesome, she’s super smart and she’s a biologist, so she showed me the plants that were safe to eat and her and I could talk about everything and anything.” 

“How old is she?” Allie asks, trying to mentally picture Tobin being with an academic. 

“Couple of years younger than us,” Tobin replies, “we worked really well together, like instantly we were on the same page.” Now that she’s started telling her about Christen, she   
can’t stop. “And when my appendix thing was happening, she was super sweet and took care of me, like, she even went to the hospital and then stayed with me after for a few days while I recovered enough to fly home.” 

“Aw, that’s nice,” Allie comments, a soft smile on her face, “sounds like she likes you.” 

“It’s mutual,” Tobin grins, feeling a tinge of redness at her cheeks, “Al, she’s absolutely gorgeous and made me dinner for Thanksgiving and I got to meet her dogs. She did my laundry ‘cause I can’t lift anything and she understood about me and Shirley and” she stops, smiling like a fool, “I’m rambling.” 

Allie laughs, “Yes, you are,” she says, nudging her shoulder, “but it’s wonderful. I’m happy to see you this excited.” 

Tobin slows her walk, taking a sip of her near finished tea, “I really like her,” she says, “and like, we can talk for hours, or if we worked on a project, we could just like, be together and not say anything and it was totally fine. Like, it’s not awkward, you know?” 

Allie nods, “I know it’s early to say something like this,” Allie says, “but I knew Bati was the one when we could just sit on the couch reading or whatever and not talk and it wasn’t weird. I never feel like I have to say something to fill the void, you know?” 

“Yes!” Tobin touches her arm, “That’s how it is with Christen,” she says eagerly, nodding at her, “and like, she’s sensitive about stuff when we were out.” 

“How do you mean?” Allie asks, curious about this woman. 

“Wednesday night we got something to eat,” Tobin explains, “and it was a bar that served food, and it was cool and then it got crowded and people were noticing me and she like, realized I was getting uncomfortable being there and she was like, let’s go and we left.” 

“I mean, you’re right that it’s too early to know if she’s the one or whatever,” Tobin continues, giving Allie a huge smile, “but I’m willing to find out.” 

“Tobin- you should totally bring her tonight!” Allie exclaims, “It would be perfect, we get to meet her, she gets to know us and she’s on the show too,” 

“I don’t know Harry,” Tobin says warily, “that might be too much too early,” 

“Well, ask her!” she demands, stopping near their cars. 

Tobin thinks it over, she wants Christen to meet her friends but she’s not sure what the timeline is for that type of thing. “Who’s gonna be there? Like, how big is this party?” Tobin asks, thinking if it’s small that might not be too bad. 

“It’s at Sinc’s place,” Allie states, “and it’s just me and Bati, Horan, Sonnett, and Kelley is here too!” 

Tobin considers, it’s not a big crowd, noting Kelley being in town, “I’ll talk to her and let you know, okay?” Tobin asks, “I mean, we’re just like, are together, and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable and I don’t even know when we should start meeting friends and stuff, you know?” 

Allie nods understandingly, “Let me know,” she says gently, smiling at her and giving her a soft hug, “I’m really happy for you, Harry,” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says, “she’s super awesome,” 

“Talk to me later,” Allie points at her. 

Tobin fires finger guns at her, “You got it!” 

 

XXXX

 

“So,” Tobin says, clearing her throat as she drives her and Christen from their lunch spot to the mystery destination, “I have a million questions about where we are going,” she says, “but even more pressing is about what you’d like to do tonight.” 

“Oh, I’m up for whatever,” Christen shrugs from the passenger seat. 

“Well,” Tobin draws out the word, “I ran into my friend Allie when I went to Providence Park this morning for my doctor’s appointment.” She glances over and sees Christen looking at her. 

“And, we went for coffee and she invited, or rather demanded I come over to another friend’s house for a little party.” She says rather uncomfortably. 

“Oh,” Christen chirps, “well if you wanted to go, that’s fine, we can go out some other night.” 

“Well,” Tobin once again draws out the word, “you’re invited too.” 

“Oh?” Christen questions, looking a little perplexed. “Why don’t you fill me in a little more.” 

Tobin shares her time with Allie, how they went for coffee and Allie insisted she come to the viewing party. Christen is now realizing some of the names Tobin has mentioned are players on the Thorns. 

“That’s right,” Christen murmurs, “I kind of forgot it was on tonight.” 

“I completely understand if you don’t want to go,” Tobin says glancing over at her as she drives, “I absolutely had no idea the show was on tonight either.” 

“Tobin,” Christen says warmly, squeezing her fingers that are currently interlocked with hers, “it’s okay,” she says, “I’d love to go,” 

Tobin sharply turns to look at her, “Really?” 

“Yes,” Christen laughs, “I mean, I’ll have to meet your friends sometime, what better way than for them to make fun of us for being such dorks on TV?” 

Tobin’s face drops with a look of horror overcoming her, “Oh no,” 

“Hey,” Christen says as they pull up to a red light, she leans over and kisses her cheek, “we’ll live. It will be fun. On one condition though.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Text Allie and find out if we’re eating there and if I can bring an appetizer.” Christen says, tilting her head and smiling at her. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“This is amazing!” Tobin quietly exclaims, slowly turning around the gallery. 

“Isn’t it?” Christen smiles, reaching for her hand and leading her over to the first case. Christen had chosen for them to check out the Rice Museum of Rocks and Minerals which was about thirty-five minutes from their lunch location, west of Portland. 

“I’ve never seen so many rocks!” Tobin says, grinning wildly, her eyes scanning the glass cases. 

“Actually,” Christen says humorously, “we’re in the mineral exhibit.” 

“Still, it’s so cool!” Tobin enthuses. 

“Yeah,” Christen sighs with a happy smile on her face as she looks at a case, “I had a hard time choosing between medicinal botany or geology for my biology minor,” 

“Really?” Tobin says, standing a little closer to her, “That’s neat, you really like rocks, huh?” 

“I love them,” Christen sighs happily, “I mean, I love botany as well, and with that, there’s so much you can do with it. Nutrition, medicine, farming, hybrids,” she says, “plenty of stuff.”

“Rocks are more about history,” Tobin ventures, “time and pressure?” 

Christen looks at her with surprise, not expecting such a comment, “Well, yeah,” 

“Hey,” Tobin jerks her hand a little, making Christen raise her eyebrows, “I learned some stuff in college,” she smirks. 

Christen smiles, “I’d like to hear more of what you learned in college sometime,”

Tobin leans close to her, “I’d like to show you some of what I learned in college,” says speaks flirtatiously, “mostly what I learned that wasn’t taught in class,” her hot breath on Christen’s ear and neck, causing Christen to shiver.

Christen takes a step away from her, their hands still linked, “Easy there, tiger,” she chuckles, turning her attention to another display case, “there’s no chance of that until you’re healed up.” 

“Aw, c’mon,” Tobin protests, giving her pleading look that Christen can see from the corner of her vision. “we could be inventive,” 

“Look at the pretty rocks, Tobin,” Christen teases, ignoring her attempts to win her over. 

“They’re minerals,” Tobin mutters, shaking her head and smirking at her, “you’re something else,” 

They continue to check out the display, moving to the next gallery of gemstones. They ooh and aah over the pretty stones, discussing they’re favorites and which ones they thought were unique. Time is closing in on them, getting lost in the displays, seeing the interactive mining exhibit, and they realize the museum is closing. 

“We’ll have time to shop and I can make an appetizer for tonight,” Christen says as they walk to the car, “Is your place or mine closer to wherever we’re going tonight?” 

Tobin thinks as she hits the unblock button on her key fob, “Um, mine,” she nods. 

“Can I borrow a dish or a tray to bring it over?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she agrees, “I was thinking of bringing some beer,” 

They find a grocery store on the way back, Tobin pushing the cart as Christen leads her around the aisles, picking off the items she’s pulled up on her phone for the recipe of the tortilla roll ups she’s making. 

Tobin gets stopped a couple of times by fans asking for an autograph or a photo, waving Christen off to continue her shopping and then jogging as she pushes the cart to catch up. 

“Hey, you want some beer tonight?” Tobin asks, seeing the liquor department, 

“Yeah, if they have Breakside IPA,” Christen replies, “if not, maybe just a bottle of moscato?” Tobin nods and goes off to find Breakside, internally cheering when she does, then a six pack of Sinc’s favorite beer and finally, one of Kelley’s as well. She hasn’t told Christen that Kelley will be there, deciding not to stress her out. 

Tobin detours to the juice bar and finds Christen a few minutes later with a half gallon of fresh apple juice. “It’s made from green apples- they’re the best!” she says happily, wiggling her eyebrows at Christen. 

Christen chuckles at her excitement, “Did you need to pick up anything for your place?” 

Tobin shakes her head, “I order my stuff online, they’re delivering tomorrow morning.” 

“Speaking of tomorrow,” Christen says, walking her beside her as they stroll down the dairy aisle, “what are your plans?” 

Tobin grins at her, “I’ve got no plans until the training staff lets me start working out,” she says, “you want to do something?” 

“It’s supposed to be sunny and warmer tomorrow,” Christen shrugs, “I was thinking of taking the dogs to the beach for bit, want to come?” 

“Cathedral or Willamette?” Tobin asks, looking at her. She knows the dog beaches with Allie having her two pups. 

“I was thinking Willamette,” Christen nods, “I like that one for the dogs,” 

“Well,” Tobin says, “that’s close to my place, and they should deliver my groceries between nine and eleven,” she says, “you wanna come over and hang out, we can do lunch and then go?” She elbows her, “I’ll have food to feed you,” 

“Only if I can bring some of that pie over,” Christen says, “I almost had some for breakfast this morning,” 

“Deal!” Tobin laughs, “I’ll make a monster salad and then we can have some pie,” 

“I like how you think, Heath,” Christen nods with a smile. 

“Do you need anything else here?” Tobin asks, tilting her head at her. 

“Just a can of black beans,” Christen replies, glancing down once more at her phone and nodding to herself. 

Tobin maintains her position behind the cart as Christen unloads it on the conveyor, purposely keeping her from the credit card machine. 

“Tobin!” she argues from the end of the check out, Tobin just smiles at her, “Too slow, Press, too slow,” she puts her card in to pay for the purchase. 

Christen allows Tobin to carry the two lightest bags, carrying the double bagged beer and another bag herself, “You were right, Heath,” she grumbles as they walk to the car, “you are a real pain in the ass.” 

Tobin bats her eyes at her, making a stupid face. Christen elbows her in the arm, “Unlock the car!” She demands, “It’s cold out!” 

 

Christen is unpacking the groceries while Tobin is finding a tray for her to use for her appetizer. 

“Seriously?” Christen shakes her head, holding up a candy bar, “A Heath bar?” 

Tobin grins at her, bringing a medium sized tray to the counter, “Thought you might want a taste,” she winks at her. 

“No way,” she smirks, lobbing it at an unsuspecting Tobin, watching as it hits her in the chest, bouncing onto the counter, “Heath’s are nuttier than a fruitcake,” 

“Oh! That hurts!” Tobin groans bringing her hands to her heart and then laughs. 

 

 

Christen is just finishing putting the last few pieces of her rolled up tortillas on the tray when she looks up at Tobin, her face lined with worry, “Is what I’m wearing okay for tonight?” 

“Oh yeah,” Tobin assures her, “I’m wearing this,” she gestures to her ripped jeans and hoodie, “totally casual.” 

“You’re sure?” she asks, glancing down at her black jeans and sweater. 

“Well, Allie will probably over dress, but she does that alot,” Tobin grins at her, “you’ll be fine, I promise.” 

As Christen works on arranging the tray nicely, she hears her phone going off with texts notifications. Thinking something is wrong, she looks at it, smiling to herself. 

“You getting texts from people too about the show?” Tobin asks, looking up from her phone.

“Yeah,” Christen says, “it’s weird knowing I’ll be on TV,” 

“I mean,” Tobin says, leaning on the counter, “it’s one thing to be playing soccer on TV,” she says, “but this,” she scratches her neck, “it’s more personal, you know? Like, I don’t think anyone really knows this side of me except my family, friends and teammates, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Christen nods, “I feel like I’ll be exposed, you know?” 

Tobin nods, “I wonder how they’ll edit it,” she muses, “like what do they think will be the best parts to show?” 

“We’ll find out tonight!” Christen shrugs, raising her eyebrows at her, palms turned upright. 

 

XXXX

 

As they walk up the sidewalk with Tobin carefully balancing the tray and half gallon of apple juice and Christen struggling with three six packs, they can hear noise emanating from the house. Voices. Loud voices. 

“They’re playing a video game,” Tobin predicts, “it can get physical.” 

“I’ve been warned,” Christen says, preparing herself to not be completely nervous and starstruck. These are Tobin’s friends, that’s all, she repeats to herself, ignoring the fact that she’s about to meet one of, if not the most prolific women’s soccer player that Canada has ever produced. And be in her home. And a few more professional and Olympic athletes. 

Tobin must hear something in her tone, because she leans over, making the tray tip a little and places a soft kiss on her cheek, “We’re just real people,” she says, “we look awful in the morning, we get pimples and we poop too,” she takes a step forward and presses the doorbell. 

Christen bursts into laughter, not expecting Tobin’s pep talk. The door opens just then and Christen Sinclair stands there, grinning at them. 

“Tobin!” she says heartily, “I’m so glad to see you!” 

“Hey Sinc,” Tobin says, accepting a side hug as she walks in with Christen trailing behind her, “I’d like you to meet Christen,” she grins, “Chris, this is Christine, or Sinc, whatever you prefer,” 

“Nice to meet you,” Christen and Sinc say in unison.

“Here,” Sinc reaches for two of the six packs, “let me take that off your hands,” 

“Thank you,” Christen replies, “I appreciate it.” 

“Come on in,” Sinc invites, turning slightly towards the noise, “Allie! Come here and give me a hand!” 

“Coming!” a shout returns. 

“Harry!” the blond exclaims, taking the tray from her, turning to Christen, “You trusted her with this?” 

Christen smiles as she nods.

“Brave woman,” Allie grins, “I’m Allie, Tobin’s bestest friend,” she sticks her hand out, then notices the six pack in Christen’s hand and taking it from her. “Good Lord, Tobin,” she chastises her, “making her carry the heavy stuff, where’s your sense of chivalry?” 

“Harry, I can’t lift anything, remember?” Tobin reminds, Christen sees a look of surprise on Sinc’s face. 

Allie nudges Sinc, “She’ll explain in a minute,” 

Sinc nods. “Just put your jackets in the closet, eh?” She turns to head to the kitchen. 

Tobin takes off her coat, opening the closet door and finding a hanger, hanging up her jacket and turning to take Christen’s and hang it up as well. She shuts the door, takes the six pack, juice and places her hand on the small of Christen’s back, turning to her, “Ready?” 

“Ready!” Christen smiles. 

They pass through the open kitchen seeing Allie peeling the foil off the tray, her eyes widening, “Are these tortilla rolls?” she asks Christen as she claps her hands. 

“Yes,” Christen grins, already beginning to feel at ease. 

“And Tobin didn’t make them?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No,” 

Allie holds up her index finger, “Rule number one: Tobin and food prep is a sketchy thing.” 

“Hey, Al,” Tobin says mildly, setting the apple juice on the counter, “I can cook,” 

“Yes, you can,” Allie admits, “it’s the cutting yourself part I’m talking about.” 

“That was one time,” Tobin shakes her head. 

“You cut yourself four times in one night!” Allie exclaims. 

“Ignore her,” Tobin says to Christen, “she exaggerates the truth.” 

“Christen, would you like a drink?” Sinc asks, looking at her expectantly.

“A Breakside would be good,” she replies. 

Sinc checks the six packs, looking up at Tobin, “Did you get this for me?” she pulls out a bottle as Tobin nods. “Thanks! I haven’t had one in a long time,” she smiles. She opens the beers, holding a glass up to Christen. 

“Bottle is fine,” she says, reaching to accept it, “thanks.” 

“Help yourself to the spread,” Sinc invites, gesturing to the array of food on the counter, then points, “bathroom is down that hallway on the left.” 

A loud of cheers and groans fills the room, making Tobin and Christen turn to see Lindsey Horan stomping around doing a victory dance and Emily Sonnet yelling that she cheated. 

“Hey guys,” Tobin greets, her hand finding Christen’s and holding it.

“Tobin!” They shout and surround them. 

“Easy on the ribs,” Tobin states, as they try to hug her. 

“Are you hurt?” Emily asks, concerned. The group quiets down to listen. 

“I’ll explain in a minute, I’d like you guys to meet Christen,” she says, “Chris was my pro on the show and she lives around here and we’ve been hanging out.” 

The two get separated as the group converges around Christen, excitedly introducing themselves. She meets Lindsey, Emily, Bati and then Kelley. 

“You look familiar,” Kelley says, studying Christen. Christen becomes shy, Tobin elbows her way in, putting a protective arm around her. “You know her,” she tells Kelley. 

“Clues.” 

“College.” Tobin states. 

Kelley looks her over, rubbing her hand on her chin as her face slowly morphing into one of recognition. “CP?” 

Christen blushes, raising her hand and giving her a little finger wave, “Bingo.” 

“Oh my God!” Kelley bursts, taking two steps and hugging her, “I’ve wondered what happened to you!” she lets her go, holding her upper arms, “We have got to catch up!” she grins at her. Then she turns to the group, “She’s one of my proudest achievements.” She announces, “We met my freshman year,” she explains, “by the end of the year, she could do keg stands like a champ!” 

“Seriously,” Kelley says, “what did you end up doing? You were really into science.” 

Pleased that Kelley remembers her, Christen smiles, “I teach at U of Portland,” she replies “and the outdoors thing just became a passion.” 

“Dr. Press is a tenured professor,” Tobin boasts, smiling at her, “and she knows about rocks too,” 

Christen chuckles, “and minerals,” 

“Wait a minute,” Sinc says, “I think I went to one of your sessions at Rewild Portland last year,” she’s nodding as she remembers. 

“Oh, really?” Christen’s surprised, “Which one?” 

“It was a lecture about edible plants native to the area,” Sinc replies, “it was really interesting.” 

“Thanks,” Christen beams, “it’s amazing how many things out there in the woods are edible,” 

“I’m telling you Kelley,” Sonnett says, nearly putting her in a headlock, “you should hope your ass is in Portland if the world ends,” she chuckles, “if you’re nice, we’ll let you join our survival group.” 

Kelley pushes her off, “It’s going to be a zombie apocalypse, idiot,” she says, “you’ll need to build up an arsenal.” 

“Ladies,” Bati says, “it’s almost time,” he gestures to the TV. 

“I need food,” Lindsey announces, grabbing a plate and looking over the food choices. 

“Wait!” Kelley exclaims. “Tobin, what happened to you?”

Tobin’s about to reply, when Christine claps her hands, “Get your drinks and make a plate, Tobin can tell us when we’re all sitting.” 

“She captains you off the pitch?” Kelley complains, a smile on her face. 

Tobin squeezes her shoulder, “She’s everyone captain,” she grins, “you should see when her and Broon hang out, it’s hilarious.” 

The group gets their snacks and drinks, taking seats in the room on the large couch and couple of side chairs. Tobin and Christen sit next to each other, Kelley on Christen’s side and Allie next to Tobin. 

“So, what happened?” Kelley asks, leaning forward to look at the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging around, this has been fun. 
> 
> The kudos and comments are awesome! Thanks for the feedback- i really appreciate it. 
> 
> Final chapter is almost complete, Christemas gifts have been chosen. Think they're going to be pretty cool. 
> 
> Leaving this story open while tying up most of the loose ends, so if I get inspired, I can come back to this little world I've created. I like it, these two characters are fun. 
> 
>  
> 
> There's so much ahead of this as they continue to get to know one another, dealing with how different thier lives are, how different they are as individuals and how they both begin to toy with the idea of love. There's a twist coming up, some drama and angst, but be assured, they get through it.


	16. The Watch Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen and Tobin explain how they tapped out to the group and then they watch the episode. A good night is had, Christen pleased how friendly and down to earth the soccer players are. 
> 
> The next day, she meets up with Tobin for lunch and a visit to the dog park, then hang out at Tobin's place afterwards.

November 27, 2015 

Day 27

 

Christen and Tobin share a look, Christen nodding slightly for Tobin to speak.

“Well, everything started great for me,” Tobin begins, turning her head to eye the group, “my first few days were pretty awesome.” 

Tobin quickly tells them how she scouted for water, a place to make her shelter and settled in for the first night. She tells them of her lucky fortune with the fish, how she built the shelter and the smoker and prepared for her partner. 

Christen takes over, speaking about how she was choppered in to a clearing in the woods, told to take a west course to find Tobin. It was early in the day so she set as quick of a pace as she could through the dense woods. As her first day stretched to dusk, she found a place to set up a quick shelter, eating some of the edible berries she collected along the way with some nearby mushrooms she found. 

“Okay,” Allie cuts in, “it’s starting in like five minutes,” she says, “cut to the chase, did you win or tap out?” 

Tobin looks at Christen, “Technically I didn’t tap out,” she says, her eyes still on Christen, “I was, however, in distress.” 

“I called in for her,” Christen admits, “I tapped her out.” 

“What happened?” Kelley bellows, unable to withstand the suspense. 

“My appendix.” Tobin sighs. “I started having a belly ache earlier in the day, I just thought something didn’t agree with me. Then it got worse.” 

“Then she got a fever,” Christen says, shivering at the memory of it, “and the pain moved to her side,” she says, “but she didn’t want to give in.” 

“Then it got even worse,” Tobin frowns, “like, I was repeatedly getting stabbed in my side worse,” she shakes her head, “I think I begged Chris to call them,” 

“She was in so much pain,” Christen says, her eyes welling a little at the thought of what she went through, “there wasn’t much I could do and it was getting worse, she was in agony,” she says, sniffing a little, “so I called in for the medics.” 

“I don’t remember much of anything after that,” Tobin admits, “but I was so grateful Chris was there to help me,” she smiles at her and then shrugs, looking up at everyone, “we tapped out on Day Twenty- two.” 

“Do you know if you won?” Allie asks, looking at both of them. 

They turn to each other with questioning eyes, then the group, both of them shrugging. 

“I mean, I think they would have told us,” Tobin says. 

“We still have to do post show interviews,” Christen explains, “so they’ll be in touch soon and let us know where we came in, I’m sure.” 

“It’s starting,” Bati says quietly. 

The group grows quiet as the show starts, Tobin reaching forward and setting her empty plate on the coffee table and grabbing her glass of apple juice. She takes a drink and sets it back. As she leans back on the couch, she sends a tight smile to Christen who gives her a return one. Both are nervous.

As the narrator introduces the show and explains what this series will entail, Christen can see out of the corner of her how Tobin is fidgeting. Crossing her arms, uncrossing them, tapping her foot. Tobin continues to do this as the first celebrity contestant is introduced, growing more anxious by the second. She puts her hands on her lap, tightening and loosening her hands that are balled into fists. Christen thinks Tobin realizes what’s she’s doing because she suddenly stops and moves her hands to grip the outsides of her thighs.

Seeing her chance, Christen slowly slides her hand in between their legs and pries Tobin’s hand from her thigh, linking her fingers with Tobin’s and gives it a squeeze. Tobin glances over and mouths thank you to her, squeezing her hand as well. 

They show quick photos of each celebrity in the opening clips then their pros. The group cheers when they see Tobin and again for Christen. The two of them are blushing and Kelley elbows Christen, “Take it easy, CP,” she grins at her, “you’re among friends,” 

Christen smiles at her, relaxing a bit. She feels Tobin squeeze her hand again, looking over to her as she takes a deep breath and lets it out, then she turns at smiles at her. 

The show is set up to focus on one of the survivors at a time. The first contestant they introduce is football and baseball legend, Bo Jackson. Bo has a confident swagger.  
“Wait, they’re on Day Three?” Tobin asks, confused. 

“Yeah, last week was the season premiere,” Sinc informs her. 

“You think Bo knows survivalism?” Bati quips, “I bet he’s out with the first bear he sees,” he predicts. They all watch as Bo’s third night has him petrified of a bear coming close to his camp at night. He taps out and calls for help. 

“One down!” Kelley cheers. 

Next up is rocker Ted Nugent in all of his glory, explaining how he will kill and eat every living beast to survive. He stalks around the woods, using his archery gear to score a rabbit. 

“Crazy Uncle Ted,” Sinc says, when the show goes to commercial, “have you guys watched his show?” she glances around, “He does some pretty awesome stuff with land and game management and this one episode, he had a bunch of wounded veterans come out to hunt on his property. It was pretty cool and it seemed like it was a regular thing he does.” 

“Did you guys meet any of them before the show?” Emily asks from the other side of Kelley. 

“No,” Tobin says, “everything for me was one on one, they didn’t want us to mix before then,” 

“Same for me,” Christen chimes in. The show comes back on. 

The group cheers when Tobin appears on screen, teasing her for the model like shot of her looking out at the shore as the boat speeds across the water as they recap her arrival. 

“I had no idea they were filming!” Tobin protests, her lip curls with a smile, “I was just trying to scout things out.” 

“Little Toby with the hair flowing and looking so sultry!” Kelley teases. 

“It may not look like it, but I was internally kind of freaking out,” Tobin says, “like, reality was setting in.” 

“I’d be freaking too,” Sinc murmurs, standing up, “anyone want another beer?” 

She takes their orders and heads to the kitchen. As she enters, Tobin is explaining her smoker on the screen.

 

_“So, here’s the smoker,” she pans to a teepee made with a plastic tarp, smoke coming out of the bottom sides of it. She stands up and walks over to it, pulling a flap back and showing the rows of hanging fish inside. “These are about halfway done,” she announces, “maybe a couple more hours, then I can do this pile.” She pans back to a flat rock that has seven more fileted fish on it._

_“I figure I’ll hang this all in my bear bag as high as I can,” Tobin states, “when my pro gets here, I’ll ask them if we can make an underground storage, below the frost line,” she shrugs, “I saw it in some documentary, but I’m not sure how deep to put it down. I don’t know if the bears will get to it.”_

_“Oh!” she exclaims, her face lighting up with a smile, “I found this cool stick!” She walks over back to her kitchen area, “check it out,” The stick is a gnarled piece of warped driftwood, the bark gone, with a weird curve to it at the top. It’s almost as tall as Tobin. “I’ve marked it with each day I’m here,” she smiles at the stick, “maybe if I get bored, I’ll do a little carving in it.”_

_Suddenly her eyes dart to her left. “Hey bear!” she bellows, scanning the woods along shore near her._

_Branches can be heard cracking in the heavy brush. “Hey bear!” she yells again. With her eyes trained on the underbrush, Tobin reaches down to grab at the bear spray near her backpack. She stands, holding it out, “Get out of here!” she thunders, kicking at the rocks under her feet to make noise._

_A flurry of crackling is heard, leaves rustling and Tobin tenses up, but the noises begin to fade as the animal recedes further into the woods._

_“Whew!” she sighs, breathing heavy, “That was scary.” Her voice sounds shaky. “I have no clue what it was, but it was big.”_

_She slowly moves with wobbly legs to perch herself on a nearby rock, “Woah,” she breathes, “I hope that doesn’t happen again,” she says, “I gotta get this fish taken care of and put up high,” her eyes scan the cove, looking for any movement._

 

“Holy fuck!” Lindsey exclaims, “That bear was huge!” 

“It scared the shit outta me!” Tobin nods. “I never saw it,” she says, “I just saw the bushes moving,” 

The show cuts to Christen, who is sitting on a flat rock looking out the land before her. She swivels the camera to show her view, a deep forested valley with not many open spaces to be seen.

 

_She sets the camera down, having it look at her, as she picks up something and begins to nibble on it. “This is Medeola Virginiana, or Indian Cucumber,” she says, holding up a shiny light green root, “it really tastes like a fresh cucumber,” she says, chomping down on another one, “great to eat on the go.”_

_She sighs after she finishes chewing, “I should head out,” she says, “I wonder how my partner is doing,” she muses, “hope they’re okay.” She stands up and begins to get her pack on._

_The next seen is her surrounded by greenery, bending under large branches and pushing through the brush. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters, “I can’t see the sky,” she complains, “I want to get somewhere open so I know I’m still on course.”_

_The next scene is from her GoPro showing thick brush as Christen sings a song while she struggles to get up a steep hill._

_“Go west they said, go west they said, go west and fiiind your partner!” she breathes heavily, grasping at branches to heft herself further up the incline. She rests against a rock, catching her breath, then the view cuts to her camera panning her surroundings._

_Then they show Christen constructing her fish scoop._

_“This should work,” Christen mumbles then looks up and eyes the camera, “maybe,” shrugs. She holds up a woven mat with a diamond shaped pattern, holes in the bottom to allow the water to run through it. It’s almost two feet wide, anchored with a wooden branch on each side to hold._

_“It’s collapsible, so I’ll take it with me,” Christen explains, “since this stream is shallow, I can stand in it and try to catch some fish that swim past. I may use some rocks to narrow their path,” she stands up and mimics how she’s going to catch her fish. “The trick is to find the best place,” she says, walking over to survey the stream._

_“It’s cool to see how this stream was formed over time from the glacier on the mountain as it melted over the span of thousands of years. You can see how many of these stones have been smoothed over time, the rough edges taken off from the constant water flowing,” she looks up again at the camera, smiling and shaking her head, “okay, that was today’s lecture.” She takes another step closer to the stream._

 

“Such a science geek, still,” Kelley elbows Christen. Christen sticks her tongue out at her. 

_“I ended up catching four fish,” she says, “I’m eating these two little guys now,” she explains, “then I’ll have the others for dinner. I’m going to make a shelter for the night around here somewhere,”_

_She looks thoughtful as she eats, “Part of me feels bad setting up camp here,” she admits, “but I really pushed it yesterday and I’m still not out of the woods,” she shakes her head, “good thing the weather held up last night, if it had rained, I’d be miserable.” She had camped out in the open, no shelter having hiked for too long and ran out of daylight to make one._

_“I don’t want to push my body to the extreme this early,” Christen says earnestly, “they told me it would be a fifteen to twenty mile hike, but it feels like I’ve already done twenty with how tough this terrain is. It’s so uneven, and it’s incredibly interesting. Passing through multiple little pockets of different ecosystems, like a little area of ferns and mushrooms unlike the others around. A pocket of rocky terrain without trees or a small stand of one type of conifers. How the geology changes due to the plates shifting below, inching up new rocks and minerals from the ground over thousands of years.”_

_“This area is very well known for its seismic activity,” Christen smiles shyly at the camera, “I’m totally geeking out about how cool this place is.”_

Tobin squeezes Christen’s hand, giving her a soft smile. 

 

_Her last scene is later at night, the camera on Christen as she sits by the fire. “I hope my partner is doing okay,” she says, picking up a long stick and pushing the branches around in the fire, “I hope they’re not struggling. I hope they’ve got a decent shelter and found a water source and food, I hope they’re not having issues with bears or cougars or anything.”_

_She frowns as she pokes at the fire, “I just want to get there,” she says quietly, “I feel a sense of responsibility to get there as fast as I can.”_

 

The scene ends with an overview of the area, a blue dot showing where Christen started, a red dot showing her location and a yellow dot showing Tobin’s camp. 

The show goes to a commercial break. 

“Holy shit, Christen!” Allie exclaims, “You had to hike through all of that?” 

Christen nods, “I sure did,” she replies slowly. 

“You looked exhausted,” Tobin says quietly, nudging her. 

“I was,” Christen admits, “I was pressing to make miles, so I really only ate what I found along the way.” She shrugs, “I just wanted to get to my partner, I didn’t know what they were experiencing and I felt terrible not being to help. They said it was a fifteen mile hike, but through that dense of forest, I wasn’t making good time.” 

“Too bad you didn’t know ol’ Toby was living the high life,” Kelley cracks. 

“Tell me about it,” Christen says, knowing what would come ahead. 

 

Brett Farve is the next celebrity they spotlight. 

“He’s the second one out,” Lindsey predicts, nodding knowingly. 

“Why?” Emily asks. 

“No defense to protect him,” she chuckles, wiggling her eyebrows and tipping her beer bottle to her lips. The group groans at her bad joke. 

“Holy shit!” Sinc exclaims, watching the last celebrity to be profiled, “I can’t believe it!” 

“Never would have thought of it,” Allie shakes her head. 

“Avril Lavigne?” Bati bellows, then starts chuckling, “that is insane,” 

“Tobin,” Sinc says during another commercial break, “if you and Christen don’t win this, I’m calling for her to.” 

“Girl power?” Tobin asks mildly, lifting an eyebrow. 

“No,” Sinc replies with a shake of her head, “I met her at a Make A Wish function,” she explains, “and we had some time to hang out. She’s from Ontario and somehow we got to talking about camping and fishing. She’s serious business. Told me she had some property in Alberta she would camp out on for a few weeks at a time to get away from it all,” 

“Ooooh, a serious contender,” Kelley states, “I think Tobes and CP have it in the bag,” she says confidently, the others nodding. 

“You guys do know that we seriously have no idea how we placed in this.” Christen clarifies, 

“Well, I’ll be watching to find out,” Bati says, getting up to hit the snacks again. 

Another cheer erupts when Christen’s face appears on the screen as a preview for next week.

Christen buries her face in her free hand, turning into Tobin’s shoulder, “I can’t watch,” she mutters, twisting herself closer to her. She feels Tobin release their hands, then slowly slide her arm around her, she leans close to her, “It’s okay,” she whispers, “you look so cute,” 

Christen spreads her fingers and turns slightly to see the screen, hearing her voice and then seeing herself, all decked out in her gear. She puts her hand down, liftin her head slightly, still touching Tobin, seemingly feeling her strength. She straightens up so her back is straight on against the couch, now aware of Tobin’s arm feeling warm against her shoulders. 

She glances over and smiles at her, Tobin nodding back and then looking at the screen. 

“CP, you’re such a natural,” Kelley says teasingly, her eyes showing amusement, “the camera loves you,” she croons. 

“Easy O’Hara,” Christen elbows her, narrowing her eyes on her. 

“Come on,” Kelley eggs her on, “we gonna get to see some skin during this?” 

The sweat lodge with Tobin flashes in her mind, “Kelley,” Christen says, her eyes still blazing at her but her voice soft and pleasant and level, “are you going to force me to tell your friends about a certain Halloween party?” 

Kelley’s eyes shot wide, turning her head to face her, “You wouldn’t,” she whispers, a flash of panic on her face. 

“Stop teasing or you’ll find out,” Christen smiles sweetly at her, feeling Tobin trembling beside her, desperately trying to hold back her laughter. Christen thinks Kelley will keep pushing, but instead, a slow smile spreads across her face. 

“CP,” she says quietly, “you’ve got a backbone,” she says, her voice tinged with wonder and pride, she gives her a big smile, “I’m so proud,” 

Christen smiles at her, reaching her fist out for her to bump, “Taught to me by the best,” she says, “I never forgot how you helped me.” 

Kelley just gives her a wink and flashes her that signature smile of hers with her eyes shining. “I’m really glad to see you again, CP,” she says quietly as the others are discussing the show and ignore their moment. 

“Me too,” Christen smiles. She feels Tobin inhale deeply, letting out a contented sigh and glances to see her smiling as she watches the screen. She snuggles closer to her, glancing over at Kelley feeling happy and like a little piece of her life that she’s been missing has just come home. 

 

XXXX

 

They all had hung out after the episode was over, Emily complaining it didn’t show much of the good stuff since it was just starting. 

Christen and Tobin endured an hour session of their questions, laughing at some of the ridiculous ones they came up with. 

“Okay, Harry,” Tobin chuckled at Allie, “since you’re not into camping, I’ll tell you.” She shakes her head, “You find a place away from a water source and any poisonous plants, like poison ivy, you make a little hole and that’s your bathroom. You use this soft moss, it’s green and fuzzy and that’s what you wipe yourself with.” 

The group broke into hysterics at Allie’s horrified expression on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to go camping with us?” Sinc laughs. 

The night ended soon after, the soccer players citing early workouts and Bati needing to work. 

“It was really nice to meet you,” Christen says as she accepts a hug from the tall Canadian, “and thank you for having me over.” 

“It was great to meet you,” Sinc smiles at her, “and thanks for keeping Tobin in line and helping her out,” she nudges Tobin who stands next to them, tray in hand. 

“Tobin,” Sinc gives her a gentle hug, “heal quick and I’ll see you soon,” 

“I’ll do my best,” Tobin says, “I’ll let you know when I start rehab or whatever, we can hook up our workouts.” 

 

Once in the car, Christen immediately grabs Tobin’s free hand. “Tonight was really fun,” she says, “everyone was so nice.” 

Tobin smiles at her, “They’re all pretty awesome,” she says. 

“Now,” Christen says, leaning her head back on the headrest, “I have a bone to pick with you,” 

“Oh?” Tobin questions mildly, suspecting she knows what is coming next. 

“Did you know Kelley was going to be there?” Christen questions. 

“I might have,” Tobin admits, a small smile on her face. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“I knew you were worried about meeting everyone,” Tobin says as she navigates the car, “I didn’t want to add to it,” 

“And instead just have it happen there?” Christen follows up, “What if she didn’t remember me? That would have been so embarrassing!” 

Tobin just nods as she drives, “Christen,” she says, “there is no way Kelley would ever forget who you were,” she says confidently. 

“Did you text her ahead of time?” 

“Nope.” Tobin shakes her head. 

“Then how could you be sure?” 

Tobin glances over and smiles at her, “Nobody would forget meeting you,” she says softly. 

Christen looks at her as she drives, thinking about that. She didn’t think she was anything special in particular, she wasn’t exactly super social in college, at least, not until Kelley drew her out. 

“She hasn’t changed one bit,” Christen says, “still a wild one,” 

“You got that right,” Tobin agrees. “You know,” Tobin says, changing the subject, “we sort of met, before the show.” 

At that, Christen smiles, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “Trip much?” 

“I was unbalanced by your beauty,” Tobin cheeses with a big grin. 

Christen laughs, “I saw you there, earlier, when I came in,” she says, “I didn’t want to disturb you. I thought it was weird you were there, I mean it’s the middle of nowhere. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be on the show.” 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tobin admits, “but I was too nervous,” she shrugs, “and then I’d be leaving the next day and it would have been weird.” 

“I like to think it was good fate that paired us,” Christen says, rubbing the top of Tobin’s hand with her thumb, “and if your stupid appendix didn’t want to leave so bad, I think we could have stayed out there for at least two months, maybe even more.” 

“I agree,” Tobin nods, “we had enough fish for at least three weeks, we were catching some rabbits,” she sighs, “oh well,” she glances over at her, “not much we can do about that.” 

“I know,” Christen sighs. 

They drive in silence for a few minutes, music playing quietly. As Tobin turns down Christen’s street, Christen speaks. 

“Wanna come in for some pie?” she asks. 

Tobin chuckles, “If I didn’t know that you actually had chocolate pie in the house,” she says, “I’d think that was some real cheesy line,” 

“Oh, God, you’re right!” Christen laughs, Tobin giggling with her. “I didn’t even think of how that sounded!” 

“I mean,” Tobin continues, still chuckling, “you’ve said some pretty cheesy things to me, but that one takes the cake.” 

“You mean pie?” Christen laughs. 

 

XXXX 

 

 

“You in bed yet?” Christen asks, her voice sounding soft and warm over the phone, bringing Tobin immediately back to their time in the woods. They were maintaining their Pillow Talk before bed. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, yawning slightly, “I am, you?” 

“Uh huh,” she replies, “tonight was really fun,” 

“It was,” Tobin agrees, “I’m glad they didn’t tease us too much,” 

“Well,” Christen says, rolling to her side, “there wasn’t much to tease us about in that episode,” 

“True,” Tobin quietly agrees. She’s lying on her back, the covers drawn over her. “You realize that’s probably going to become a regular thing until the show is over,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin says, “I’ll probably host next week,”

“Yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin replies easily, “you want to join us?” 

“Maybe,” Christen replies, “I need to check in with my friends, let them know I’m back. They might want to get together soon.” 

“That’s cool,” 

“Maybe we could go out to dinner and you could meet a few of my friends?”

“I’d like that very much,” Tobin says gently, “did I hear you and Kelley were making plans?” 

“Yes,” Christen says, Tobin can hear the mile in her voice, “we’re meeting for breakfast tomorrow.” 

“I’m glad,” Tobin admits, “she’s such a good person,” 

“It’s so funny how we like, instantly picked up,” Christen says, “like we saw each other yesterday or something,” 

“That’s pretty rad,” Tobin yawns, “what time will I see you tomorrow?” 

“Probably around ten,” Christen replies, “I’ll need to go get the dogs after breakfast.” 

“Nice,” Tobin oozes, her voice growing lower and edged with sleep. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe,” Christen coos, sighing happily. 

“Night, Chris,” Tobin breathes, now near sleep. 

“Night, babe,” Christen says softly, ending the call. 

 

XXXX

 

 

November 29, 2015 

Day 30 

 

 

“Go get it!” Tobin calls out, flinging a stick for Morena to chase and retrieve. She turns to Christen who is keeping an eye on Kahleesi who is sniffing around the waterline. 

“You’re dogs are awesome!” Tobin enthuses, “Did you have to spend a lot of time training them?” 

“Not as much as you might think,” Christen replies, “I adopted them from a shelter and they knew basic commands, we just had to learn how to work together.” 

Tobin nods, squatting as Morena runs up to her with the stick. 

“Just tell her to drop,” Christen advises, watching them. 

“Morena, drop,” Tobin says, her hands out and the smile on her face grows as the dog drops the stick in her hands. She pets the dog’s head, “Good girl,” she praises her, “good girl.” She stands and whips the stick again, Morena running after it, tongue hanging out. 

“How’s your side feeling?” Christen asks walking towards her. 

“Feels good,” Tobin nods, “I haven’t needed a pain pill since the other night.” 

“Good,” Christen smiles. 

“Breakfast good?” Tobin ask Christen, now standing close to her.

Christen smiles before she replies, “She’s something else,” she chuckles. 

Tobin rolls her eyes, “I know that,” she says wryly, kicking a small rock on the shoreline. Morena comes running back with her stick and Tobin flings it in front of them. Christen sees Kahleesi trailing behind them as they walk. 

“It was good,” Christen answers, “she has actually matured a bit,” she concedes, “she more curious about me and how I ended up here in Portland.” 

“She’s leaving today, right?” Tobin asks, unsure of Kelley’s travel plans. 

“Yeah,” Christen confirms, “heading to LA for some sponsorship meetings.” 

“Ah,” Tobin nods. She feels Christen grab her hand and hold it. 

“Tobin, I want to thank you again,” she says suddenly, “last night was wonderful and seeing Kelley again,” she shrugs, “it’s been great reconnecting with her.” 

Tobin just smiles, dropping her head, “I’m super glad it all worked out so well,” Christen edges forward a little and sees the smile on her face. 

They walk hand in hand down the shoreline, slowly heading back towards the parking lot. 

“How about some hot tea back at my place?” Tobin offers, shivering slightly from the cold breeze gusting up. 

“I should probably get my dogs home,” Christen hedges, unsure if the two canines are welcome at Tobin’s place. They never were at Monica’s. 

“Aw, bring them,” Tobin urges, “they can chill out with us,” 

“You sure?” Christen questions, gauging her face for her sincerity. 

“Absolutely.” Tobin nods affirmatively. 

“Okay,” Christen smiles, “we’ll come.” 

“I’ve got some bowls,” Tobin says, “for when Allie’s dogs come over,” she explains. 

“Great!” Christen smiles, happy she’s so cool about it. 

“Oh,” Christen says, realizing the dogs are kind of muddy, “do you have a towel or something to wipe the dogs’ feet?” 

“I do,” Tobin nods, “relax,” she says, squeezing her hand, “it’s totally cool for them to be in my car, I don’t care if they’re a little muddy.” 

“Okay,” Christen breathes, “I just,” she says, “not everyone is cool about them.” 

Tobin stops walking and looks at her, “I’m not Monica,” she says softly, “it’s cool, I swear.” 

Christen nods and gives her a tightlipped smile and Tobin begins walking again. 

Tobin produces two towels from her trunk and helps wipe off Morena’s feet. It tickles Christen how much Morena likes her, Kahleesi does as well, but Morena just loves Tobin. 

 

XXXX

 

“Huh,” Tobin yawns on the couch, “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she says looking over to Christen who’s sitting next to her on the couch. 

“Let’s take a nap,” Christen proposes, “I’m pretty tired too,” 

“I can get some blankets,” Tobin stands, Christen stands up quickly, blocking her. 

“How about we sleep in your room,” she suggests rather seductively, her eyes drifting to look at Tobin’s lips. 

“Uh,” Tobin looks at her, her face slack, mesmerized, mouth slightly open, then she licks her lips, “sure,” 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little baby cliffhanger, I mean, what could happen? The two are just going to take nap. In Tobin's bed. Together. 
> 
> Hmmm, I'm totally sure they'll just sleep. Or not? 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, you know I'm good for updating, so you won't be hanging for long. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments- I'm excited to hear how you'll like the upcoming chapters as the two navigate learning more about each other and living in the same city.


	17. Connecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Christen connect...on a physical level.

November 29, 2015 

Day 29

 

Tobin leads Christen down the hall to her bedroom, thankful she decided to actually make her bed this morning. Knowing that Christen was coming over, Tobin made sure to straighten up the place. Truthfully though, she didn’t think things would lead them to the bedroom this afternoon. Not that she was complaining. Distracted by her thoughts, she doesn’t hear or see Christen shut the door quietly behind her. She stops at the foot of the bed and looks at her, “Which side?” 

“I have no preference,” Christen replies, her eyes boring into Tobin’s. Tobin feels a spasm of desire in between her legs, it’s so powerful her hips nearly jerk in reaction to it. She takes a few steps to the far side, pulling the comforter down. All thoughts of actually napping are gone. She wants her. Badly. 

“Should we set an alar-" the word dies in Tobin’s mouth watching Christen slide out of her jeans. 

Christen sees her looking, “I can’t nap in jeans,” she replies, casually tossing her pants on the floor. 

“Uh,” Tobin licks her lips, “neither can I,” she says, fumbling to get her button and zipper undone and shove her jeans off. Tobin can usually sleep at the drop of a hat, any time and anywhere and wearing anything. Today, right now, this second, she feels that her clothes are stifling her. 

“Take off your shirt,” Christen suggests, looking so incredibly hot as she toys with the hem of her own sweater, “I want to see your incision,” 

Tobin does as told, tossing her long sleeved shirt to a corner of the room, “Why?” she asks, a little confused. 

Christen is now in her bra and panties, kneeling on the bed, “Don’t you know chicks dig scars, Heath,” she says with a smirk, beckoning her to join her on the mattress. 

Tobin does so, kneeling before her, staring at her. She watches as Christen’s eyes shamelessly crawl over her body, how her mouth is slightly open, how her chest is rising and falling, how her breasts move with each inhale and exhale. Christen reaches to lightly trace two fingers near her incisions still covered by the steri-strips. She brings her other hand up, now slowly gliding her fingers along Tobin’s sides. She looks Tobin in the eyes, those greenish-grey orbs penetrating into Tobin’s soul. Christen touches her shoulder, nodding at her and Tobin slowly lies down, Christen carefully arranging herself half on top of her. 

“I want you,” Christen murmurs, her eyes still on her. 

“I dreamed of having you,” Tobin replies, her voice breathy and low, “I want you so bad,” she says softly as Christen’s face draws near, then their lips touch. 

As much as Tobin wants to devour her, she keeps up with Christen’s slow pace, both softly letting their tongues meet, feeling the sensation as they twist. She feels Christen shift and Tobin spreads her legs, accepting the feel of Christen’s muscular thigh against her core. She moans as Christen rocks into her slowly, kissing her deeply. 

Tobin’s hands find Christen ass, massaging her, guiding her hips down against her own leg and hears Christen moan in appreciation. Tobin loves this build up, this foreplay, taking her time, slowly running her hands on Christen’s back, her fingers finding the back of her bra and cleverly unfastening the hooks, running her hands under the straps.  
Christen lifts herself up on her hands, letting the straps drop and soon the bra is on the floor, flung carelessly by Tobin’s eager hand. 

Tobin’s hands move slowly over Christen’s skin, delighting in the smoothness. Her hands find her breasts, reveling in the touch, her full breasts, the darkness surrounding her nipples, how they protrude at attention, Christen arching her back, eyes shut, mouth open as she inhales deeply. Tobin has waited and hoped for this moment ever since they built the sweat lodge and sat across from each other naked in the woods. Her want and desire increase tenfold as she rubs Christen’s nipples with the side of her thumbs, watching as they harden at her touch. She needs to taste them. 

Tobin slowly shifts her hips, rolling over and now Christen is on her back. Tobin straddles Christen, her hands deeply massaging her breasts now, Tobin mesmerized by the silkiness of her skin. Christen grabs Tobin’s forearms, pulling her close to connect their lips, rolling her hips beneath her and letting out a breathy moan into Tobin’s mouth. 

She breaks the kiss, her hands removing Tobin’s bra, her eyes roaming on her bare upper body. The slight definition of Tobin’s pec muscles, how her trapezius muscles create a valley near her clavicle, the definition of her abdominals. Tobin leans in and takes a nipple to her mouth, licking around the darkened skin around the raised bud, teasing her. Tobin’s leaning on her side now up on one elbow, her free hand lazily stroking Christen’s abdomen, as she works her way up to kiss her again. She dips her head to the valley in her neck, sucking and biting lightly as her hand lowers to Christen’s center. She feels Christen open up for her, spreading her legs, her hands circling on Tobin’s back. 

Tobin ever so slowly teases her, her hand circling up to tweak her nipple and then dip down to massage her inner thigh as her head finds its way back to her chest. Just as Tobin touches her for the time, running her fingertip through Christen’s folds, she sucks hard on her breast, taking in as much as she can and flitting her tongue around her nipple. 

Christen lets out a groan, her hands griping Tobin’s sides hard enough to leave marks, gasping at the sensation. “Yes,” she breathes out, her voice quiet and aching, full of want and desire as her hips grind with Tobin’s movements. 

Tobin’s mouth leaves her Christen’s breast, looking up in to her face, “You feel so good,” she murmurs, now trailing her finger around her center and then working back up to her clit, “can I taste you?” 

Christen lets out a guttural moan, arching her back, “Please,” she urges. 

Without stopping her industrious finger, Tobin kisses her way down Christen’s body until she finds herself between her legs. She slowly works the panties from her, and then she places her hands on each of her thighs, squeezing in a gentle rhythm as she inhales her scent. Christen can feel Tobin’s hot breath against her core as she shudders. Tobin places a soft kiss at the apex of her pubic bone and her tongue begins to circle her clit. 

Christen’s hand move to grip Tobin’s hair, wanting more of her touch, needing it desperately. She’s so ready to explode, it isn’t funny, her senses are overloaded. The build up was too much, she needs her release. 

Tobin can feel how on the edge Christen is, quickening her pace as she licks at her, sucks at her, slowly releasing her right thigh and moving her left hand. 

Christen cries out loudly when Tobin slowly enters her with two long fingers, her tongue still working on her clit. “Yes!” she cries, tightening her grip, pulling at Tobin’s hair, “Faster!” she pleads. 

Tobin quickens’ her pace, sliding in and out of her, angling her hand, her breaths hot on Christen’s thigh. Christen’s hips are bucking, making it hard for Tobin to stay attached to her by mouth, so she lifts her head and the sight before her leaves her weak. Christen, in the throes of pleasure, uninhibited, her curly hair laid out wild on the pillow. Eyes shut, breathing heavy with moans coming from her mouth with each exhale. 

Tobin curls her two fingers deep inside her as she pulls her hand back, Christen letting go of her, scrabbling to find purchase on the mattress. Short moans come now, her chest heaving, a glistening layer of sweat covering her whole body. “Yes, oh, fuck,” Christen mews, her voice a higher pitch, unsteady with desire. 

Tobin dives back in, sucking hard on her clit, keeping her lips firmly around it as she twitches her fingers within her. She feels Christen arch her back, crying out loudly as her legs twitch and then release.

Christen melts into the mattress, along moaning, “Tobin,” coming from her lips. How she says it, part moan and part prayer like makes Tobin shudder. Tobin’s breathing just as hard, resting her head to the side on her thigh, marveling at what she just witnessed and that this has just actually happened. 

They both stay silent for a few minutes, the sounds of their breathing in the air. “Oh, babe,” Christen says, her fingers finding Tobin’s jaw to lift her head, “come up here,” 

Tobin slowly inches her way to her side, mindful of her stitches. Their lips connect in a long slow kiss, conveying to each other what words can not express. When they break apart, Tobin slides on her back, feeling a head rush. 

She glances over and sees Christen looking at her with a Mona Lisa smile on her face, licking her lips. 

Tobin gives her a smile in return, going up on one elbow and turning to grab her ever present water bottle on the night side and take a long swig. She offers it to Christen. She watches Christen’s throat move as she drains the bottle, feeling an almost uncontrollable lust wash over her. 

Christen hands the empty bottle back and Tobin casually tosses it over her shoulder, the loud clatter of plastic hitting the wood floor. Christen giggles this musical laugh, “Come here, you,” she says, rolling on to Tobin and kissing her hard, tasting herself on Tobin’s lips. Christen quickly sheds Tobin of her underwear, kissing her hard, eager with anticipation. 

Tobin pulls Christen on top of her, feeling her full weight, both of them sweaty, their nipples teasing each other, cores touching as their hips move. 

Christen suddenly stops, straightening her elbows to look down at Tobin. “This isn’t hurting your side, is it?” she asks seriously, suddenly remembering Tobin’s not even a week from her surgery. 

“It’s fine,” Tobin replies breathily, “please don’t stop,” she shakes her head. 

“Just checking,” Christen says quietly, leaning down and sucking lightly on her neck. Her hand finds Tobin’s hip, ghosting her fingers over it, running softly up to feel her side. 

Then she slides it over to her chest, feeling the already hard small nipple. Tobin issues a low moan, her hips shifting beneath her, her hands gliding up and down Christen’s back. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Christen murmurs as she moves from Tobin’s neck and works her way down, placing soft kisses on her skin as she nears her breast. She feels Tobin inhale deeply as she licks her at her nipple. Then she hears a low throaty moan as she sucks on the hardened bud, her tongue circling it as her free hand moves from her hip to scratch on the outside of Tobin’s thigh. 

“Chris,” Tobin whines, “touch me, please,” she swallows hard, “I need you,” she spreads her legs, “please,” 

Thrilled to hear her begging with desire, Christen abandons Tobin’s breast, slowly using both hands to massage Tobin’s breasts as she lowers herself in between her legs. She kneels up suddenly, looking to see Tobin wide eyed and breathing heavy. 

“Just a second,” Christen says, using her hair tie to pull her hair back into a ponytail. Then she massages both of Tobin’s thighs, feeling the taut muscles under the incredibly soft and smooth skin. She finds both of Tobin’s hands, taking them in hers as she lowers herself in between her legs. She grips Tobin’s hands as she takes her first taste of her, a long languid stroke of her tongue, feeling Tobin arch and writhe beneath her, a high pitched feminine moan coming from Tobin’s lips, feeling how Tobin’s grip on her hands tighten. 

“Oh, yes!” Tobin groans, her hips undulating in rhythm with Christen’s agonizingly slow strokes with her tongue. Tobin can feel herself barreling towards her orgasm, even though Christen’s just begun to touch her. “Fuck!” she curses, willing herself to stay in this moment, not get overwhelmed by her touch. 

Christen hears the desperation in Tobin’s voice, she must be close, she thinks, instinctively slowing down her frenetic movements. She doesn’t know what Tobin’s like, she’s never had sex with her before, she has no clue if she’s that close or maybe very vocal. Some women are like that. 

She soon feels Tobin’s hips slow down, her breathing dropping from an outright panting to just breathing heavy. I probably started out way too fast, she thinks, note to self, tease and go slow with this one. 

“So good,” Tobin moans, moving her arms straight out from her sides, the picture of bliss. Christen shifts her shoulders and arms, now gliding her index through Tobin’s folds. She watches as Tobin looks completely relaxed as she lazily runs her finger over her sensitive core. Wanting to see more of a reaction, Christen angles her wrist and now slowly circles her clit. A shudder tears through Tobin, her whole body flinching and her hips rising even more. 

Christen circles her opening, playing with the perimeter, teasing by just entering her with her fingernail and then withdrawing. 

“Please!” Tobin pleads, “Yes, Chris!” 

Christen enters her, instantly feeling Tobin tight around her finger. She pushes in deeper, even so slowly as Tobin freezes in place. Once she’s seated as far as she can get, she pauses, giving Tobin time to adjust. Christen shifts on the mattress, now straddling Tobin’s leg as she slowly pumps in and out of her. Mesmerized by her, Christen watches as Tobin’s abs engage as she rolls her hips, muscles rippling, coated in a sheen of sweat. It’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen, unconsciously thrusting her own hips along Tobin’s thigh. 

She picks up the pace, Tobin moaning with unbridled enthusiasm, her hands now gripping the sheets of the messy bed. 

“So close,” Tobin utters breathlessly, “Chris, I’m so close,” 

Christen adds a second finger, now curling them deep inside Tobin and dragging them bent as she pulls out, making Tobin cry out. She ruts against Tobin’s leg, feeing her slick trail on her thigh, feeling herself building towards release as she watches Tobin slowly come undone. 

Christen stills her hand, curling her fingers then fluttering them inside her, watching as Tobin’s legs shake, seeing how her heels are dug into the mattress. Her hips buck wildly, moans getting louder, until she freezes, locked in place, her back arched, white knuckling the bunched up material of the sheets in her hands, muscles flexing. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tobin mutters with each breathe, shaking the messy hair that has fallen onto her face. “Ooooohhh,” she moans, her hips locking, leaving her motionless for a few seconds, her body tense, muscles contracted, then she collapses on the mattress, her chest heaving. 

Christen comes a moment later, shuddering on Tobin’s thigh, falling to the mattress on her side next to Tobin. 

Once again, the sound of their heavy breathing fills the room. Christen feels Tobin moving her arm, then she feels fingers on her wrist and then her hand. The two lay there as they come down, their breathing slowing gradually, comfortable in the silence. 

Tobin turns her head to face Christen, looking t her with slightly glazed eyes and a dopey grin on her face. “Hey,” she says softly, her eyes shining with affection, “that was amazing,” she declares. 

“Uh huh,” Christen breathes, needing another minute to get her heartrate lower, “better than I ever dreamed of,” she says, grinning at her. 

“Same,” Tobin nods, rolling on her side and leaning forward to connect their lips, “I really like doing that with you,” she grins, “you’re really good at it,” 

Christen’s eyes sparkle as she looks at her, “You’re really good at it, too,” she grins back, her eyes crinkling with happiness. She kisses Tobin. 

Tobin lets her hand run over Christen’s side, just simply gazing at her with a smile on her face. “I really like you,” she says, “and not because we just did that,” she nods, “we just get along so well,” 

Christen nods, scooting closer so their bodies touch from chest to knees. 

“We just click,” she agrees, “maybe it’s because we’ve already seen each other struggling and helped each other,” she shrugs a little, “I don’t know, but it just seems like there’s no bullshit between us. Just being open to each other.” 

“I’d like you to open up to me,” Tobin grins as her hand snakes down to softly run her fingers through the small patch of hair in between Christen’s legs. Christen giggles, wrapping her hand firmly around Tobin’s wrist and taking her by surprise with how quickly she twists and gets Tobin beneath her. She straddles her waist, looking down on her victoriously, “It’s my turn,” she says, “I owe you one,” 

“Huh?” Tobin questions, shifting her head as she looks at her.

“You made me come twice,” Christen replies, “once with your mouth and fingers,” Christen explains, “and then with your leg,” she leans over and draws close to her, kissing her neck and then up to her ear, “we need to keep this even,” 

“Chris,” Tobin says, as the woman above her begins to suck on her neck her hand massaging one of her breasts, “we don’t need to keep score, it’s fi- ah!” She reels as Christen begins to move her firm leg against Tobin’s still sensitive core. 

“Sssshhh,” Christen coos, rhythmically thrusting her leg against her, “I got you,” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“The roof of my mouth is so going to be destroyed,” Christen grins as she shovels another spoonful of cereal into her mouth, crunching loudly, “and I don’t even care.” 

“It’s so good,” Tobin agrees, her words garbled through her full mouth. After a short nap and a shower together, they are dressed and are now standing near the kitchen counter, hungrily devouring the cereal. 

“I can’t believe a professional athlete has Captain Crunch in their house,” Christen remarks, still grinning, “I haven’t had this in years.” 

“Honestly, I only bought this to make a chicken dish,” Tobin states, “I haven’t actually eaten this since, like, grade school.” 

“What type of chicken dish do you make with this?” Christen is intrigued. She glances at the counter, noticing a black composition notebook labeled Food. She wonders what that is. 

“Well,” Tobin smirks, “if you wanna hang out and stay for dinner, I’ll make it for you.” 

Christen considers for a split second, “How about we make it together?” she barters. 

Tobin shrugs, “Even better,” she grins. 

 

They’re both spread out on the couch, legs tangled together while their heads are on opposite ends, propped up by pillows and a blanket spread over them. They’ve taken the dogs for a walk, both animals finding comfy spots to nap on the couch as well, Morena tucked on Tobin’s torso, her head on her stomach and Kahleesi splayed out across Christen’s legs. 

A random soccer match is playing on TV however both women have their noses in their phones, catching up with texts and reading emails. 

“Humph,” Christen sighs, her eyes on whatever she’s reading, eyebrows furrowed, mouth twisted. 

Tobin taps her with her foot, “What’s up?” 

Christen glances at her, then looks back at her screen, “The detective emailed me that the judge signed off on the order of protection for home and work and will be serving them to Monica tomorrow and stopping by my house to give me my copies in the afternoon.” 

Tobin frowns, “I really hope she backs off,” 

Christen nods, “Me too,” she agrees, “I hope it scares her and she’ll just stop.” 

“Do you think she’ll get violent or something?” Tobin asks, feeling nervous. 

“I wouldn’t,” Christen shrugs, “but you saw the texts,” she looks up at her, “I just don’t know anymore.” 

Tobin looks at her for a long minute, “Maybe you shouldn’t go anywhere alone for the next week or so,” she suggests, “just be ultra aware of your surroundings.” 

“Yeah,” Christen nods in agreement, “that sounds like a good plan.” She thinks for a minute, “My sister Channing wants to come visit. I’ll text her back and see what days she’s thinking.”

“Where does she live again?” Tobin asks, setting her phone on her lap. Christen had told her once before, but she wasn’t which sister she was talking about. 

“Near LA, kind of close to my parents,” Christen replies, “I haven’t seen her in a couple of months,” 

“Nice,” Tobin gives her a soft smile, “I’m kind of glad we’re out of the woods, so I can see my family for Christmas,” 

“Do you see them often?” Christen asks, wondering how Tobin’s busy life allows her to connect with her family. 

“Well,” Tobin shifts a little on the couch, “never as much as I want, but more than a few times during the year. Sometimes they’ll come to my matches here or we’ll meet in whatever city I’m playing in for a friendly with national team.” 

“That has to be hard,” Christen says, “would you normally be seeing them now, during your off season?” 

“Yeah, most of the time, I make the rounds,” Tobin nods, “it changes with whatever they have going on too,” 

Christen nods thoughtfully, thinking of how different their lives are. “So, what are your plans for the week?” 

Tobin smiles widely, “I begin rehab,” she says, her eyes lighting up, “then move onto my normal preseason training,” 

Christen smiles back, “Yay!” she cheers softly, “So what does that look like for you? Most of the day or just mornings?” 

“From about nine until two,” Tobin replies, “then I usually come home and nap for a couple of hours, and then whatever until around ten,” she says, “I like to be asleep before eleven.” 

Christen raises her eyebrows at this revelation, “Very structured,” she comments, “do you get off days?” 

“Weekends,” Tobin smiles, “sometimes I’ll take a day off if I’m feeling punky or like if I just maxed out a new level of weights or something,” 

“Okay,” Christen nods, “good to know,” 

“You know, we can plan to do stuff,” Tobin says earnestly, “I have a little wiggle room since it’s preseason, it’s actually off season conditioning. It’s not official or anything, but I like to stay structured.” 

“Sure,” Christen smiles, “meet for lunch? Maybe go away for a weekend?” 

Tobin smiles at her, nodding. “What does your schedule look like? I mean, since you’re not teaching, do you have projects or things you want to do?” 

“Well,” Christen bites her lower lip, “I’m going to talk to Jen and see if she wants me to take my classes back. They were nice enough to grant me the time off and since I’m back, I should at least offer.” 

“That’s true,” Tobin nods. 

“I do want to plan my next semester now, before Christmas, and then I need to figure out some of the special projects I’d like to offer as extra credit.” Christen continues, “I’ve got a couple of speaking events coming up in the spring, so I want to outline those and then decide where my field studies will be.”

“Woah,” Tobin says, her eyebrows high on her head, “that’s a lot.” 

Christen gives her a dismissive wave, “it sounds worse than it actually is,” she says, “once I get started, it’s goes pretty fast.” 

“Well, that’s good,” Tobin says dryly, “because it doesn’t sound all that fun.” 

“Oh, but some of it is!” Christen enthuses, “you can come with me when I plan some of my quizzes,” 

Tobin looks horrified, “Huh?” 

“I have them do a sort of scavenger hunt,” she explains, “I usually give them in the spring when it’s just too nice out to be in the lecture hall.” 

“Huh,” Tobin says, “how does it work?” 

“I give them a list of a variety of plants, rocks and trees, and they have to find them, take a photo. They come back in the hall and make a quick slideshow, naming the photos and I grade them.” 

“Don’t you have a TA that can do that?” 

“I’m not sure if I’ll have one this semester, I’ll get the applications in January.” Christen replies. 

“Okay, so let’s go back to this week,” Tobin suggests, “I really don’t want you to be alone much,” she says, “not if this Monica can be unpredictable.” 

“Most of my friends work during the day,” Christen explains, “they’re still teaching. If I needed to, I could hang out on campus, in the library, or just hunker down at my house.” 

Tobin looks unconvinced. 

“How about we start the week off with me just staying at home with the dogs,” Christen suggests, “Kahleesi will protect me,” she says, “she can be ferocious. I’ll meet up with you once you get home and then we can spend our evenings together.” 

“I don’t know,” Tobin says, “I mean, I’ve been through a stalker type thing,” 

“If Monica knocks on my door, I’m calling the Police,” Christen states firmly, “I’m not messing around with her, I don’t want to talk to her, see her or anything. I won’t do anything to endanger myself.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, “I don’t mean to be so, like, demanding or insistent,” she says, “but this is scary and I’m concerned.” 

“And I appreciate it,” Christen says warmly, “I won’t be silly about things.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods. 

“Wanna get started on dinner?” Christen asks, glad they agreed on a plan, “I’m starving and I’m so intrigued to have Captain Crunch Chicken.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin agrees, “I’m getting hungry too,” 

 

 

“Okay,” Christen says, shoving her plate back a little, “that was incredible.” 

Tobin smiles big before bringing her fork up to finish her meal, when she’s done chewing, she bobs her head, “Glad you liked it,” she says, “you should try pork chops encrusted with Frosted Flakes,” 

“Where do you get these ideas?” Christen laughs, reaching for her glass of water. 

“Kelley,” Tobin grins, “she comes up with some pretty crazy stuff,” she says, “but it tastes so good,” 

“It really does,” Christen shakes her head, “I guess I’m not surprised it would be something Kelley came up with,” 

“Gosh,” Tobin says, leaning back in her chair, “I think we were living in California one summer after college and poor as can be,” she remembers, “it was her turn to make dinner and we didn’t have much in the house.” 

Christen rolls her eyes, “I remember those days,” she sighs and gives her a smile, “so glad those days are over!” 

“Uh huh!” Tobin agrees. She reaches across the table to lift Christen’s plate and stands, taking her own as well to the kitchen. Christen grabs the silverware and glasses and follows. 

They quickly do the dishes together, chatting about cooking and meals they like to make. Tobin admits she really isn’t that adventurous while she’s in season and sticks to her specific guidelines she follows from her nutritionist. 

Christen asks multiple questions about what she eats, admitting she’s curious. Truth is, she does want to know so that when she cooks for Tobin, and she’s already planning that she will, she wants to make sure it doesn’t go against what she normally eats. 

Tobin whips out her phone, messes with it for a few seconds and then Christen’s phone alerts to a text. 

“Is that you?” she asks as Tobin sets her phone down with a nod. 

“I just sent you a sample packet I have,” she says, “it’s got a bunch of recipes and there’s an article about food recommendations during preseason in regards to the next day’s activities.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Christen says, “thanks, I’ll check it out,” 

“Yeah, the science behind it is pretty fascinating,” Tobin states, “I mean, when I was younger I didn’t take it too seriously, but I do now,” she says emphatically, “it has really changed my performance, in ways I never thought it could.” 

Dishes now done, Christen tosses the dish towel on the counter, stepping closer to Tobin, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her. Tobin’s hands find Christen’s hips and pulls her closer. 

“You know,” Christen says as she moves to Tobin’s neck, “I’m not sure I totally believe your diet can make that big of change in your performance,” she says quietly as she sucks on Tobin’s neck. It takes Tobin a moment to register what she’s said, “Seriously?” 

Tobin can feel Christen’s lips leave her neck, her head rising a little towards her ear, “I suggest a series of tests,” Christen husks, lightly sucking just under Tobin’s ear. 

Head swimming from the sensation, Tobin swallows hard, “What type of tests?” she gets out. 

“We should establish a baseline of your performance,” Christen states seriously, her voice low and sultry, nipping on Tobin’s earlobe. 

“My,” Tobin swallows dryly, “my performance?” Her hands are now gripping Christen’s ass and pressing their hips together. 

“Your preseason sexual performance,” Christen whispers, her breath sending a shiver down Tobin’s spine. She feels Christen take a step, the two of them slowly moving from the counter and Tobin leads her as she walks backward to her bedroom. 

“Of course, Dr. Press,” Tobin says breathily, kissing her hard, “anything you say, Dr. Press,” she turns and the back of Christen’s legs hit the bed. Tobin steps back, looking at her with desire and hunger. She takes her shirt off and as soon as Christen sees Tobin’s hand go for her jeans, she’s stripping out of her clothes just as fast.


	18. Concern & Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen has a slight scare when she thinks she sees Monica's car driving past her house. She comes over to Tobin's place and delights her in wanting to learn how to cook the recipes Tobin follows to meet her nutrition goals. Plans are made to meet Christen's sister and her friends. 
> 
> Tobin and Allie have a fight.

November 30, 2015 

Day 31

 

Tobin had just walked in the locker room after her workout when she heard the muted ring of her phone going off. She strides to her locker quickly and unlocks her small personal locker in her cubicle, grabbing her phone and seeing it is Christen. 

“Yo,” Tobin replies, “what’s up?” She was going to shower and change and then go and pick up Christen and the dogs and come back to her house. 

“I just wanted to let you know, I’ll meet you at your place,” Christen replies, her voice a little hurried and strained. 

“What’s wrong?” Tobin is instantly alarmed. 

“I’m sure I’m just over reacting,” Christen replies hurriedly, “I thought I saw Monica’s car go up and down the block a few times.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come and get you?” Tobin asks, her heart beating a little faster. 

“No,” Christen replies, “I’m in the car already,” 

“Alright,” Tobin says, “I’ll get home quick,” 

 

Tobin meets Christen in the parking tower, having texted her and instructed her to come and park inside. She had gotten her a pass.

“Thank you,” Christen hugs her tightly, “I’m not even sure it was her,” she says, her head buried against Tobin’s neck, “but it was starting to freak me out.”

“It’s fine,” Tobin states, “you did the right thing getting out of there,” she pulls back to look at her, “you okay now?” 

Christen gives her a smile, “I am now,” she says, hugging her again, “you must be freezing!” she says when she realizes Tobin isn’t wearing a jacket, just her hoodie, “It’s cold in here,” she says, leaving her arms and turning towards her car, “will you get the dogs?” 

“Sure!” Tobin grins, leaning past Christen to see the dogs in the passenger seat, tails wagging, “Hi puppies!” 

Christen hauls out a backpack and a soft leather briefcase with a shoulder strap, then closes the door. “Let’s go,” she says, locking her vehicle. 

 

 

“So, how was your first day of training?” Christen asks once they’re on the couch with the dogs. 

“Decent,” Tobin replies, setting her mug of tea down, “they let me do more than I thought they would,” she leans back and strokes Morena’s head. “This week will be light workouts and cardio in the morning, get my touches in the afternoon.” 

“I’m so glad,” Christen smiles at her, “you don’t feel like you’ll be behind your schedule?” 

“Not too much,” Tobin replies, “I can feel it when I twist, but it doesn’t hurt much, just like, pulls. The strips are almost ready to come off,” she shifts a little. “Were you able to get some stuff done?” 

“Yes,” Christen nods, “I still have a mountain, but I brought it with,” she shrugs, “I thought I could work on it while you nap.” 

“You don’t want to nap with me?” Tobin tilts her head and questions, she was kind of looking forward to it. 

Christen shakes her, “I’m still keyed up,” she admits, “throwing myself into lesson planning will be good for me,” she says, “it makes me concentrate and calms me.” 

Tobin nods with understanding, “Well,” she draws out the word, “I do need to nap,” she says, “and when I get up, I was going to work on some Thorns stuff, so I won’t interrupt you or anything,” 

Christen nods, “Don’t let me change up what you need to do,” she says, “but,” she holds up a finger, “what time do you eat dinner?” 

“Usually around five,” Tobin shrugs.

“I would like to cook,” Christen states, “I read some of the recipes from the link you sent over and I’d like to make one if you have everything here,” 

“Oh, Chris,” Tobin says, “it’s okay, you don’t have to” she stops when she sees Christen’s raised finger. 

“Babe,” she says softly, “I’d like to cook for you and I want to respect your diet,” she looks at her, “so when you get up, I’ll take a break and we can look over the recipes and see what you have here we can make, alright?” 

Tobin looks at her and sees how serious she is, “Well, can I help?” 

Christen winks at her, “We’ll see,” she says, moving Kahleesi over and getting up from the couch, she extends a hand to Tobin, “go nap,” she orders, “I have after dinner plans for you,” 

Tobin shifts Morena onto the couch and takes her hand, cleverly using it to draw her close when she stands up. “What might those plans be, hum?” she asks softly, bringing Christen close for a kiss. 

Tobin kisses her in a way that has Christen rethinking her plan of working while Tobin naps. But she wants Tobin to get her rest and if she joins her in bed, they certainly wouldn’t be napping or resting. It can wait for later, after dinner. 

“After dinner, you’ll find out,” she smiles at her, kissing her softly, “go,” 

Tobin sighs noisily, “Alright,” she grumbles, but she’s smiling, “I’ll see you in a little while,” she kisses her once more, just a soft kiss on the side of her mouth, “later,” she says and ambles off down the hallway to her room. 

 

If Christen thought she would get a good chunk of her semester outline completed, she was dead wrong. Her phone started blowing up with texts from her friends, wanting to set a date to get together and meet Tobin. After much back and forth, it was agreed that either Friday or Saturday night would be perfect with them depending on Tobin’s availability. 

During the back and forth, Christen answered many questions about Tobin and how it was going with her. 

Also, her friends were concerned about Monica and if Christen had spoken to her and what was going on with that situation. She told them about the orders of protection and how she thought maybe Monica passed by her house, but she couldn’t be sure and how she hadn’t heard a word from the woman. Christen promised she would get back to them as soon as she could. She figured if Tobin was hosting a viewing party on Friday night with her friends, hopefully Saturday night would work. She’ll ask her when she wakes up. Channing is coming in on Thursday and leaving Sunday morning, so she’ll ask Tobin about Thursday night if they want to meet up for dinner or hang out. 

After accomplishing making tentative plans, Christen looks at her watch and sees Tobin should be getting up in less than a half an hour. She hasn’t even taken her laptop from her case. She leaves the couch, heading to the kitchen to peruse Tobin’s groceries, checking for options for their dinner tonight. Since Tobin had just received her order, she had plenty of items to choose from. Christen was confident they could make something work. 

She’s standing at the kitchen island drinking a glass of water when she sees Tobin padding down the hallway hugging herself and looking sleepy. “Hi,” she says, giving her a smile at such cuteness. 

“Hey,” Tobin replies, her voice low and sleep filled. She approaches her and burrows against her side, laying her head on Christen’s shoulder. “Still sleepy,” she murmurs, sighing against her. 

Christen puts an arm around her, “You could have slept longer, honey,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down Tobin’s arm.

“I wouldn’t sleep tonight,” Tobin replies with a yawn, “I’m hungry,” she moans, “can we start dinner?” 

“Yes,” Christen grins, “why don’t you eat an apple while we figure it out?” she hands her an apple from the fruit basket on the island. 

They agree on a chicken dish that looks tasty and Christen is anxious to try it. 

“You know,” she says as she sautes the chicken while Tobin is washing some zucchini, “it’s really like just clean eating,” she nods to herself, “more oils than dairy, the focus on proteins,” she looks up at Tobin who’s looking at her with a small grin on her face, “What?” Christen smiles, “I think it’s interesting.” 

“The real trick to it is eating the right foods tonight for whatever you’re doing tomorrow.” Tobin nods sagely, “I wish I learned that earlier,” 

“I think it’s fascinating,” Christen nods as she shuts off the burner and lifts the skillet and places it in the hot oven to bake. She sets the timer. 

“And I think it’s super cool you think it’s interesting,” Tobin replies, “I know I have a binder around here from camp you can borrow,” 

Christen nods, “I really would,” she grins, “you wanna go look for it while I finish this?” Tobin gives her an amused smile, “Sure,” she says, humoring her, “I’ll be back.” 

It does tickle Tobin that Christen is serious about this whole nutrition thing, even her Mom and sisters haven’t completely gotten on board, leaving Tobin to make some of her own meals when she visits them. It’s not that they eat awful things, it’s just that Tobin carefully plans out most of her meals, even more so in season. Since she’s in season or training most of the time between club and country, she doesn’t really pig out much on her cheat days. 

A few minutes later, Tobin emerges from her room, setting the binder down near Christen’s briefcase and joining her in the kitchen. Christen is plating the meal and suggests Tobin to get whatever she wants to drink. 

 

 

“Okay, wow, babe,” Tobin says as she finishes chewing, looking over at her, “this is seriously much better than I’ve ever made it,” 

Christen can’t help the smile plastering her face, “Oh, really?” she asks innocently. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “what did you do different?” 

“Well,” she says, drawing out the word, “I followed the recipe, but I did notice something interesting.” 

“What was that?” Tobin asks, looking at her intently. She’s super curious why this tastes so much better than any time she’s made it. 

“Well,” Christen shrugs, “you had wet measuring cups in the drawer,” she says, “it took me awhile to find the dry measuring cups,” 

Tobin looks perplexed, “Wet and dry?” she questions, “You mean the white plastic ones?” Christen nods. “Oh, I hardly ever use those,” 

“Sweetie,” Christen says gently, “there’s a big difference between wet and dry measuring cups,” 

“There is?” 

“Yes,” she nods, “I figured if the dry ones were way in the back of the drawer, you probably didn’t use them much.” 

Tobin makes a face, “Well,” she says, “you’re not wrong,” she takes another bite, chewing slowly, “huh,” she contemplates, “that’s probably why my cookies suck,” she mumbles.

Christen doesn’t know if she should laugh or reassure her or what, so she just settles on patting Tobin’s thigh and continuing eating. 

 

 

They’ve finished eating and Tobin is making sure she’s available for their upcoming plans. 

“So, Thursday would be fine,” Tobin looks up from her phone, “and if you’re going to hang out with Channing on Friday and I’m hosting the girls that night for the show, then Saturday would be great for meeting your friends,” she smiles. She enters the events into her phone.

“Perfect,” Christen sets the last plate in the dishwasher, “I’ll let them know.” 

“Oh,” Tobin says, “Alex will be back sometime on Saturday,” she grins, “she wants to know if you want to meet for brunch on Sunday,” 

“Really?” Christen is a little surprised. 

“Well, yeah,” Tobin shrugs, “I may have told her about you and she wants to meet you,” She grins, “She’s coming in from the U.K. so being out Saturday night is good, she’s usually grumpy and overtired.” 

“Aren’t we all from overseas travel?” Christen looks at her.

“True,” Tobin chuckles, “I’m usually more zombie like than pissy,” she says, “but I’m sure others have another opinion of that.” 

“You want to just stay at my place Saturday night?” Christen offers, “You wouldn’t want to disturb her if you were coming home late,” she says, looking at her suggestively. 

“I could do that,” Tobin agrees, eying her as she licks her lips, “that’s the considerate thing to do,” 

“Why don’t you come over here,” Christen suggests, “I want to show you something,” she says, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Tobin’s chair makes a screeching noise against the wood floor as she springs from it, quickly meeting Christen and bringing her hands to her waist, leaning in close. 

“Whaddya wanna show me?” Tobin husks, kissing her gently, her hands creeping up under Christen’s sweater. 

“How considerate I’m feeling,” Christen answers, gripping Tobin’s ass and squeezing, forcing them closer together. 

Tobin lets out a shaky sigh as she grinds against Christen, kissing her hard. Christen surprises her by backing her up against the island counter and taking a step back, bringing one hand up to massage Tobin’s breast and the other to slide underneath the elastic of Tobin’s joggers. 

“Mmmph,” Tobin moans, wrapping her arms around Christen and burying her head into her neck as Christen’s fingers find the growing wetness in between her legs. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“All tucked in safe and sound,” Christen says, she’s on the phone with Tobin. She’s back in her house, having convinced Tobin it wasn’t necessary for her to escort her home since she has the dogs. “Nothing looks funny outside, it was still all locked up tight.”

“Great,” Tobin sighs, “are you in bed already?” Tobin is under her covers, tired from her first day of workouts. 

“I’m undressing as we speak,” Christen replies, dropping her voice lower, trying to be seductive. 

“Whew, whew,” Tobin calls out, “why isn’t this a Facetime call?” she complains. 

“You just saw me naked like an hour ago,” Christen retorts, “easy horndog,” 

“Can’t help it that you’re hot as all get out,” Tobin replies with a grin, “I can’t get enough of you,” she admits, there’s more feeling behind her statement, but she thinks it’s too soon to share just how much she likes her. She knows Christen like her as well, but Tobin feels like she’s maybe falling for her and thinks maybe it’s too soon to talk like that. Especially with Christen dealing with Monica, who is, hopefully, not going to be bothering her. 

She’ll keep those thoughts to herself, she’ll journal it to help her process it, because she wants to be sure she’s not just like, transferring the love she felt for Shirley onto Christen unconsciously. She’s hesitant, she doesn’t think she’s blindly doing it, but she wants to be sure. She wants to love Christen for herself and not because she’s the first woman she’s with after Shirley.

“You’ll see me tomorrow night at my place,” Christen reminds her, “then Thursday for dinner with Channing and then Saturday night,” 

“Wednesday you’ve got that housewarming thing, right?” Tobin recalls. Christen’s friend Jen from work was hosting a small shindig at her new place. 

“Yeah,” Christen replies, “it’s casual, it’s not going to be a late night,” 

“You could cut out early and come over here,” Tobin suggests, “I’ll make it worth your while,” 

“I will not be responsible for you lacking sleep during your conditioning, Tobin,” Christen tries to reprimand her but fails as she giggles. “Who knows,” she says, “if it breaks up early, I may see you,” 

“Alright,” Tobin says, yawning, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” 

“Sounds good,” Christen smiles at the sound of Tobin’s sleepy voice, “good night,” 

“Night, Chris,” Tobin says quietly and they end the call. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

December 1, 2015 

Day 32 

 

“I’m concentrating, Harry,” Tobin complains as she hefts the weight bar over her shoulders completing another curl, “will you just leave it?” The trainers are allowing her to lift light weights, concentrating on her form. 

“Harry,” Allie sasses teasingly, “come on, you’re glowing, how was it? Did she set you on fire?” 

Tobin racks the bar and glares at her, “I’m not talking to you about this here,” she says, “could you can it?” 

“It’s not every day you come in with a nice juicy hickey on your neck, Har,” Allie says, putting her hand on her hip, she snickers as Tobin’s hand reflexively goes up to her neck. 

Tobin glances around the fitness room, Sinc making eye contact with her and giving her a wink. 

“Shut up!” Tobin hisses, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She wipes the bench down, picks up her workout list and moves to the plyometric boxes. Allie follows her, swiping a foam roller and laying on the ground to roll out her leg. 

“Come on,” Allie says, “is she a good kisser? Did she blow your mind?” 

“She’s not a piece of meat.” She says firmly, getting pissed and glaring at her, then turning to focus on her jumps, hands out in front of her, feet properly placed as she springs up. There’s about ten Thorns players in the fitness at various benches and machines as Sinc rolls past. 

“Let’s focus!” she shouts, clapping her hands, “Chatter doesn’t make champions!” she yells, reaching for the knob on the sound system, “Let’s keep our eyes on the prize!” She turns up the volume on the thumping music, turning and setting her water bottle down next to the other set of plyo boxes.

Tobin turns her head and mouths a thank you to her, rolling her eyes, and Sinc gives her a nod. 

 

 

Tobin is coming out of the showers, wrapped in her towel, another towel twisted on her head, as she heads for her locker. 

Allie is just entering the locker room, Mana Shim talking her ear off. Neither one of them look very happy. 

Tobin lowers her head and ignores them, silently Sinc comes out from the showers sitting down in her chair and drying her legs, glancing around and seeing Tobin with her head down. 

“Tobin,” she calls out, “you watch the Arsenal match this morning?” 

“Caught the second half,” Tobin nods, standing to pull her joggers up. “It was crazy,” 

“Did you see the highlights of the yellow cards in the first half? They were bullshit!” Sinc shakes her head. 

The two chatter about the match as they dress. Allie silently heads for the showers, Mana glaring at the back of her head. 

She glances at Tobin and shrugs as she shakes her head. Tobin just nods. 

“Sinc, how’s your Mom doing?” Tobin asks as she bends over to pull on her socks, glancing over at her. 

Christine smiles, “She’s been feeling good,” she says, “I’m heading up there tomorrow for a few days,” she grins, “help her do her Christmas shopping,” 

“Sweet,” Tobin grins, “let’s plan a weekend in February to go hang out with her, huh?” 

“She’ll love it!” Sinc smiles, nodding her head. 

“I’m in for that,” Mana grins, “I love your Mom,” she snaps her towel at Sinc.

“You just love hearing embarrassing stories about me,” the Canadian replies good naturedly. 

“That too,” Mana agrees, “but I want some poutine,” she says, “the real stuff.” 

Tobin finishes dressing as Allie comes out of the shower, turning her back to her to grab her backpack. The two had planned on doing lunch after their workout, but Tobin is still so pissed at her, she wants nothing to do with her right now. 

“Later guys,” she calls, turning and briskly leaving the locker room. 

She’s not five steps away from the doors when she hears them bang open. 

“Tobin!” Allie calls, “Tobin, wait!” 

Tobin stops, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out as she turns to face Allie, who only has her towel wrapped around herself. 

“What?” Tobin asks, irritated. 

“I, uh, I thought we were going to lunch?” Allie stutters, her eyes wide. 

“I love you Har,” Tobin says evenly, “but I don’t like you right now,” she says slowly and quietly, “and I think I just need some time to myself.” 

“I’m sorry,” Allie frowns, “I didn’t mean-” 

“We can talk later,” Tobin uncharacteristically cuts her off, turns and leaves. 

She stops at the team kitchen on her way out, making her protein shake and grabbing a salad to take home. Her plan is now to just go to her place, eat the stupid salad and then take a nap. The coaches had called off the afternoon session, something was wrong with the heat in the indoor facility, so they were on their own. 

Her phone has been steadily buzzing with messages from Allie that she’s ignoring for the moment. Tobin heads to her vehicle, intent on just getting home. 

 

**Harry: I’m sorry, I was out of line**

**Harry: Seriously, I was being rude**

**Harry: Please talk to me**

**Harry: I’m an asshole, I know. I’m sorry**

**Harry: I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m really sorry**

 

Tobin is finally looking over her texts as she eats her tasteless salad. When she finishes, she heads to her room, kicking off her slides and burrowing under the covers. She just wants to sleep. She punches her pillow, twisting onto her side. 

How can Allie get under my skin so easily, she wonders, why does it bother me so much? She knows I’m with Christen, she knows I don’t talk about that type of private stuff. Why was she pushing so much? She sighs, flopping on her back, unable to get comfortable. 

She keeps tossing and turning for some time, getting more and more frustrated that she can’t relax. I don’t like being mad at her, she thinks, we’re best friends. She sighs, grabbing her phone, contemplating on responding but then finding her music channel and opening her playlist and hitting the ocean waves soundtrack to help her fall asleep. 

She’s just drifting off when she thinks she hears a noise, but she’s so tired she just dismisses it. That blacker than black wave descends on her, now breathing even and feeling peaceful. She feels the bed dip and someone crawl in next to her. Tobin’s eyes fly open as she turns to see Allie creeping in under the covers next to her. She lets out a sigh, not surprised Allie would come over and use her key. 

“I’m sorry,” Allie says contritely, “I really am,” 

Tobin sighs again, dropping her head back on the pillow and closing her eyes again, “I know,” she says sleepily.

Allie is silent, unsure if she should say more. 

“Why do you insist on asking me such personal questions?” Tobin asks, her eyes still shut. 

“I just want to know if you’re happy,” Allie replies. 

Tobin huffs, “I want to know that you’re happy,” she says irritably, “but I don’t go asking you how big Bati’s dick is,” 

Silence fills the room. 

“You’re right,” Allie admits, “you don’t ask me that type of stuff.” 

“Do you want me to?” Tobin questions, “It’s none of my business.” 

Allie sighs, “I just,” she starts, she rolls on her side to face Tobin, “you keep so much in your head,” she says, “I worry about how you deal with stuff. Especially after you and Shirley.” 

“I deal with stuff okay,” Tobin says, now opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling, “I just,” she frowns, “I think with Shirley, I really ignored what signals she was sending me. She’s a physical person, just like I am, and I think I thought she wanted the same things I did.” 

“Tobin,” Allie says softly, knowing how hard it is for her to speak about it, even now. 

“I thought she loved me,” Tobin continues, “I think I convinced myself she wanted to be with me,” she shakes her head, “I was wrong,” she says, “so wrong.”

“But she kept sleeping with you,” Allie states, “that had to mean something.” 

Tobin sighs deeply, “We had the hots for each other, it was physical. Sometimes I wonder, looking back on it, if she viewed it like she was being the typical curious straight girl. Just hooking up.”

Allie’s head lifts from the pillow, “Is that really a thing?” 

Tobin turns her head to look at her, giving her a grin, “It is _so_ a thing,” she says, “probably about at least half of my college hook ups.” 

“You were a busy little beaver back in college,” Allie wiggles her eyebrows, “I mean, we never really talked about it, but you didn’t settle down until senior year when you were dating that field hockey chick.” 

“Maria,” Tobin smiles, “she was pretty cool,” 

“How come it didn’t become a thing after school?” Allie inquires, feeling that Tobin was being pretty receptive and talkative, so she should ask the questions she’s always wondered about. 

“She always planned on going back to Puerto Rico once she had her engineering degree,” Tobin replies, “we talked about it, we both knew it wouldn’t be a forever thing.” 

“Huh,” Allie thinks, remembering how unfazed Tobin was back then when she told her about her and Maria breaking up. “What about Shirley?” 

“That,” Tobin sighs, “that one hurt,” she says, “a lot.” 

“What happened Tobin?” Allie asks, “You never talked about it, you just told us you two were done and never really explained why,” 

“She wouldn’t come here,” Tobin says, “she wouldn’t come to America and I was sick of being the one who did all of the traveling. I was the one going to France all the time,” she explains, “I just came to realize that she wasn’t putting as much of an effort into it as I was and it made me sad and I felt kind of embarrassed.” 

“What were you embarrassed about?” Allie asks, “I mean, that’s a pretty serious reason to break up, her not wanting to be here with you,” 

Tobin shrugs a little, not looking at her, “I guess I kinda felt like you guys knew it wouldn’t last and I was just spinning my wheels trying to make it work when it was hopeless.” 

“Tobin,” Allie says, placing her hand on Tobin’s arm, rubbing it lightly, “I never thought that,” she says, “I don’t think the others did either,” 

“I don’t know,” Tobin mumbles. 

“I thought it was pretty amazing that you invested so much in her,” Allie continues, “I guess I didn’t think to ask you if you were happy about it.” 

“She was cheating on me,” Tobin says quietly, having said those words only once to Alex. 

“I’m sorry,” Allie says, she knows this is what happened from Alex, but hearing it from Tobin makes her even sadder, “I didn’t know back then,” 

“You were pretty wrapped up with Bati at the time,” Tobin shrugs.

“That doesn’t excuse it,” Allie insists, “I was a bad friend, I’m sorry,” 

“Hey, no” Tobin starts, but is cut off. 

“No, I was,” Allie insists, “I never really asked you serious how you were when you were with her,” she says, “you would always say everything was cool and I left it at that, never asking if there were any problems. I was too caught up in my stuff to consider if you were really doing okay.” 

“Har, it’s okay,” Tobin assures her, “I’m not mad,” 

“Well you were today and I’m really sorry about that,” 

“I know,” Tobin says gently. She sighs, “You just,” she says, “you just were crass about it, you know? Like, Christen was hook up I don’t care about.” 

Tobin can feel Allie nodding next to her. She steels herself and gathers her courage, she really hasn’t talked deeply about her feelings to Allie or anyone a whole lot. 

“I really like her,” she says, “she’s so smart, and funny and we just get along so well,” 

“She seems really nice,” Allie encourages.

“Yeah,” Tobin says, but there’s something in her voice that concerns Allie. 

“What?” Allie asks, “What’s wrong?” 

“I just,” Tobin sighs, “she’s just so out of my league.” 

Allie clucks her tongue, “Come on,” she says. 

“No, like really,” Tobin insists, “she skipped two grades in school and started college when she sixteen,” she says, getting worked up, “she’s super smart, she knows about so much, Al. I googled her and saw that her thesis paper won some award,” 

“Okay,” Allie interrupts, “so she’s smart, you are too,” 

“Not like that, Al,” Tobin huffs, “I feel stupid when I’m with her sometimes, you know? Like, she can talk so easily about all sorts of stuff, she just knows so much and I have trouble remembering what I did last week.” 

“I see,” Allie says quietly. She knows about Tobin’s issues with her memory, she’s seen all of the notebooks around her place, food, Thorns, family, friends, her journal. 

“When I left Friday, Bati and I talked about Christen in the car,” Allie begins slowly, “and we both agreed the first vibe we got from her when we met was her kindness.” She rolls over up onto her elbows to look at Tobin, “She’s a very nice person, a good person,” she insists, “you know how you can just tell sometimes, their goodness just exudes from them. That’s Christen. And I know I don’t know her like you do, but I’m pretty certain if you really think of it, deep down, you know she wouldn’t think less of you because you don’t have a similar academic background.” 

Tobin is silent, letting it sink in. 

“Tobin, I mean, come on, she isn’t that petty, she doesn’t seem like she judges someone because of their schooling,” Allie pushes, “or because they have a learning disability.” 

Tobin winces when Allie says those last two words. Those two words have followed her all through school. Whispered around her when they thought she couldn’t hear, all of the tutors, the extra credit she would do, the sickening feeling she felt every time she took a test. She swallows hard, she’s been out of college for a few years and it’s just like the anxiety of it all has come back to her. It makes her feel insecure. 

“You are not stupid, Tobin,” Allie says firmly, remembering the hours she spent with Tobin in college, helping her take notes, studying with her. “You have a sharp mind, you just have a memory problem, it’s not your fault.” 

“I know,” Tobin says quietly, “it’s just hard to talk to about,” she admits, “and I like her so much, I’m scared of what she’ll think.” 

“I don’t think it will change a thing,” Allie says confidently, “I know I don’t know her much at all, but I really don’t think she’s like that.” 

“You’re right,” Tobin sighs, “I’m just freaking out about it,” 

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Allie admonishes, “it’s not something you should dwell on,” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she sniffs, “you’re right,” she scratches her jaw. 

“Okay?” Allie asks. 

Tobin nods, giving her a small smile, “Okay,” 

“Good,” Allie smiles, “now, when can I hang with you and her again? I want to get to know her more,” 

“Well, we’re going to go to brunch with Alex on Sunday, you should come,” Tobin offers, thinking it would be cool. 

“I’m there,” Allie replies with a smile, “just tell me what time and where,” 

“But, just keep it to yourself,” she adds, “I don’t want it to be like, a big outing, okay?” 

“Sure,” Allie agrees easily. She remembers how overwhelmed she felt meeting Bati’s friends, slow, small little lunches and events helped tremendously as opposed to large get togethers. “Hey,” she says, “how did Christen like Friday night? We weren’t too much for her, where we?” 

“No,” Tobin smiles, “she really liked meeting you all, it was perfect.” 

“Is she coming here Friday to watch the show?” 

“Nah,” Tobin shakes her head, “she’s busy, her sister is coming in to town.” 

“You meeting her?” 

“Yep,” Tobin nods, “Thursday night.” 

“That’s cool,” Allie smiles, moving close and hugging Tobin. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah, Har,” Tobin replies, “we are.” 

“Good,” Allie squeezes her tight. They lie in silence. 

“Hey, Har?” Tobin asks quietly. 

“Hum?” 

“Were you ever scared with how much you liked Bati?” 

Allie smiles, “I was terrified,” she says just as quietly, “my head was all over the place.” 

“What helped you through it?” Tobin asks, her voice so small and timid. 

“I prayed,” Allie replies, “and I just took a lot of deep breaths and knew everything would be fine. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, like you’re flying.” 

“Huh,” 

“Just,” Allie pauses.

“What?” Tobin asks. 

“Just know I’m here for you, okay?” Allie offers, “Don’t keep it all in your head,”

“I’ll do my best,” Tobin answers sincerely, “I’m sorry I got so pissed at you, I don’t like being mad at you,” 

“I know,” Allie says, “I deserved it, though.” 

Tobin yawns and looks at her phone, she sets the timer, “I seriously need to nap,” 

“Got plans tonight?” Allie wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Yes,” Tobin smiles, “I’m going to Christen’s for dinner.” 

Allie smiles, “Well, let’s nap and then I’ll help you pick your outfit,” 

“Sure,” Tobin grins, and then rolls over. 

 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments + the kudos= my thanks and gratitude. 
> 
>  
> 
> The slow burn to the I love you's is rolling along. Both of them are thinking about it, just who will be ready to express it? 
> 
> There's a few mire bumps along the way before the two can get to a place where they can freely admit their feelings to another. Hope you stick around for the ride.


	19. Getting Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin goes to Christen’s house for dinner, enjoying an evening alone before Christen’s sister comes to town. The topic of school comes up and Tobin decides to share with Christen her memory issues.

. 

 

December 1, 2015 

Day 32/That Evening 

“Hi!” Christen greets Tobin, reaching out to hug her before Tobin even steps through the door. 

“You look beautiful,” Tobin says, stepping back to look over Christen’s outfit. She’s wearing a dark forest green sweater dress that brings out her eyes, hugs her curves and shows off her legs. A simple necklace and short ankle booties complete her outfit. 

“You look hot,” Christen states, eying Tobin’s black leather jacket, her crisp white button up and the fitted black pants with her boots. 

“How’s it going?” Tobin asks, a smile on her face. 

“Great!” Christen replies, her eyes sparkling, “I may have had a glass or two of wine while I was cooking,” 

“Oh boy,” Tobin chuckles, entering the house as Christen appreciatively eyes her backside as she passes. “Hi puppies!” Tobin greets, kneeling down to pet the dogs. She looks up, 

“Oh, this is for you,” she says, handing a bundle of tissue paper to her. 

“What’s this?” Christen asks, peering at it curiously. 

“Just a little something,” Tobin shrugs as she wipes her face from the dog kisses and stands up, “open it.” She unzips her boots and takes them off. 

“This is an amazing wrap job, babe,” Christen smirks, carefully peeling back a layer of the tissue paper, “it’s heavy.” 

“Be careful,” Tobin cautions, “don’t drop it,” 

Christen’s mouth drops open as she views the item in her hand, “Oh, honey!” she exclaims, bringing her free hand around Tobin’s waist and pulling her close, “It’s beautiful!” 

“You like it?” Tobin asks, happy with Christen’s reaction. 

“I love it!” Christen exclaims, throwing her other arm around her to hug her, “It’s so pretty!” she says and leans in to kiss her. Her kiss becomes passionate quickly, Tobin   
responding just as enthusiastically. 

When they break apart, both are breathing a little rapidly. 

“Thank you!” Christen hugs her tight once again, “I love it.” 

“You’re welcome,” Tobin grins, “I thought of you when I saw it.” 

“I know exactly where to put it,” Christen says, dropping her left arm and gripping Tobin’s hand with her right and leading her down the hallway into the living room. She stops in front of the mantel of her fireplace, rearranging a couple of items and then placing the agate geode on it. 

On the way to Christen’s house, Tobin had stopped at this cool little shop near her place that carried an array of natural products from around the world. She always admired the rocks, she thought they were cool and after going to the museum with Christen, she wanted to go back and find something she thought she would like. 

She settled on this agate slice that was about an inch thick and about five inches around with a small black metal base to hold it. It was greyish on the ends and turned into an array of startling green colors. 

“How did you choose this?” Christen asks, turning and again holding Tobin close. Tobin smiles at her and uses two fingers to brush the hair that fallen across Christen’s forehead.

She tilts her head slightly as she looks at her, “It reminds me of your eyes,” Tobin replies, “they’re so exotic and mesmerizing and have all of these amazing colors in them.” A demure smile spreads across Christen’s face, “I love it,” she says, kissing her again, “thank you so much,” 

“You’re very welcome,” Tobin murmurs as she kisses her back. She could do this with her all night, just holding each other and kissing like this. 

A ringing chime from the kitchen makes Christen step back, “Oh, I’ve got to check on that,” she says, “and look at you, you’re still in your jacket! Where are my manners? Here, let me take it.” 

“I got it,” Tobin chuckles, “I’ll go hang it up.” 

Two minutes later, Tobin enters the kitchen, “It smells wonderful,” she says as she approaches Christen who is stirring a pan of mixed vegetables. 

“It does,” Christen agrees, smiling at her, her eyes sparkling, “I hope you like it,” 

“What are we eating?” Tobin asks, “Can I help with anything?” 

“We’re eating steaks, sorta,” Christen chuckles as she sways to the soft music playing in the background, “Oooh, sounds great!” Tobin says, standing close to her, “you smell so good,” she says, placing a kiss on her cheek. 

“What can I do?” Tobin questions, looking around. 

“Would you like to fix yourself a glass of wine?” Christen offers, “this is almost ready, I’ll just need ten minutes to finish.” 

“Where do you keep your glasses?” Tobin asks, turning to face the cabinets. 

“Top left,” Christen answers, turning off the flame beneath the saute pan. Tobin steps over and opens the cabinet, removing a glass and turning to the bottle on the counter.

“Oh, a cabernet, nice,” Tobin murmurs as she inspects the bottle. 

“Are you into wine?” Christen asks, looking at her. She grabs a knife from her knife block and slides a foil wrapped plate towards her. 

“Yeah, a little,” Tobin states, “I lived in France for a while, so it was hard not to try a lot of wines while I was there.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Christen nods, cutting thin slices of the beef as she listens, “how was that experience?” 

“Honestly, it was one of the hardest times in my life,” Tobin says, “there were positives,” she says, taking a sip of the wine and nodding appreciatively, “but it was hard. I struggled to learn the language, the team was incredibly strict, although playing and training was awesome.” 

“What about your down time? Did you have time to explore the city? Where were you?” 

“I was in Paris,” Tobin says, “it was lonely. There was another player, Lindsey, you met her, she played there, but I spent a lot of time alone for a while.” 

“Yeah?” Christen looks at her, “Were you homesick?” 

“Terribly,” Tobin nods, “I missed my family and so much about the States, it wasn’t funny. But it made me appreciate things here so much.” 

“Hm,” Christen nods as she works, placing a thin slice of beef on top of a thin slice of a toasted baguette. 

“I met someone there,” Tobin says, “we dated for a little over two years,” 

“You mentioned her before,” Christen nods, “Shirley, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms, “it didn’t end that great and it took me awhile to get over it.” 

“That sucks,” Christen nods, “been there.” 

“But, anyway,” Tobin clears her throat, “when I had an injury that lingered, they cancelled my contract and I came back here. So overall, I’d say my experience was like fifty-fifty. But I learned a lot about wine.” 

Christen flashes a rueful smile at her, turning to present the small platter, “It’s experiences like those that shape who we are,” she says, “it sounds like that time forced you to really dig deep within yourself.” 

“It was,” Tobin agrees, “that looks amazing!” The baguette slices have a layer of beef, vegetables and a drizzle of melted cheese.

“Will you please top off my glass and follow me?” Christen asks, batting her eyelashes at her. 

“Of course,” Tobin grins, moving to the wine bottle. 

Tobin passes the empty dining room table, then proceeds to the living room, finding Christen tossing pillows from the couch onto a blanket spread on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

“I thought we’d relax while we ate,” Christen says, gracefully kneeling and then sliding herself to the floor, pulling a pillow close to rest on her side. 

“Oh, wow,” Tobin grins, “this is nice,” she says, carefully lowering herself as she balances the glasses in her hands. She hands Christen her glass of wine. Christen holds hers out,   
“To us,” she says quietly, looking at Tobin with a soft smile. 

“To us,” Tobin repeats, her smile just as soft, “cheers,” they clink their glasses together and both take a sip. “This is really nice,” Tobin says again, “very romantic,” she smiles at her. 

“That was my intention,” Christen acknowledges, “we won’t be alone like this until Saturday night,” 

“That’s right,” Tobin nods, settling herself into a comfortable position, “that’s not going to be fun,” 

“Well, hopefully tonight will tide us over for a few days,” Christen suggests, “here,” she lifts the plate, “have one.” 

Tobin grabs a napkin and takes one of the pieces, bringing it to her mouth, she takes a bite, “Mmm,” she moans as she chews, “this is so good,” 

Christen takes on as well and nibbles on it. “Oh, it turned out really good,” she says before taking another bite. 

“So, how was your day?” Tobin asks as she takes another piece, demolishing it three bites. She’s hungry since she only had that salad for lunch. 

“It was great!” Christen exclaims, “I went grocery shopping, got some laundry done, talked to my Mom and the dogs had a bath.” 

“You said they like water, do they like taking baths?” Tobin questions, glancing over to where Morena and Kahleesi are lying on the couch peacefully sleeping. 

The two converse about their day, Tobin explaining her workout routine and how they didn’t have a late practice because of a facility issue. She doesn’t say anything about her and   
Allie fighting or Allie coming over to apologize. She doesn’t want to open that can of worms. They eat as they talk, Tobin laughing as Christen explains how Morena loves the water but hates getting dried and flees the bathroom, shaking herself all over the house before she could catch her. 

Tobin eats her last piece, “This is so delicious,” she says sincerely, “I like the twist of using bread instead of potatoes or rice,” 

“Well, I love bread,” Christen confesses, “and I thought it would be okay for you if I used that as a carb instead.” 

“Chris,” Tobin says, reaching over and placing a hand on her shin, “you don’t know how touched I am that you take this food thing so seriously,” 

Christen shrugs, “What can I say?” she shrugs, “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” 

“Thank you,” Tobin says softly, leaning forward to kiss her. 

“Sounds like you had a busy day,” Tobin says when she leans back, “did you get to work on your school stuff at all?” 

“Oh, I got so much done!” Christen nods, “It always feels good when you can make some progress on the lesson plans. It gets easier each semester.” 

“Awesome!” Tobin grins, “Do you have to mix up the tests from the previous semesters to break up any cheating rings?” 

Christen does this cute giggle as she sips her wine, “I mess up the order of the tests and quiz questions, change around what are multiple choice and make some of them short essay.” She nods, “Gotta keep those kids on their toes,” 

Tobin nods, “Uh huh,” she says, “man, I don’t miss that part of school at all,” she shakes her head, “like, the coursework and I hated tests.” 

“No!” Christen exclaims, “I loved school!” 

Tobin shifts to sit cross legged, facing Christen, “It was hard for me,” she admits, “even in grade school, I struggled with classes. It didn’t help when soccer took over my life and I still had to do homework.” She sighs, deciding to just tell Christen everything, give her the whole picture. 

She bites her lower lip for a moment and then speaks. “I stuttered when I was a kid,” she says, “I had to take special classes for a few years and then it stopped. Sometimes it comes back when I’m upset or super tired,” 

Christen nods, remembering how Tobin stuttered back in the shelter when she was in so much pain. She slides her legs to mimic Tobin’s position, bringing the hem of her sweater dress up over her knees, distracting Tobin with the show of her skin. 

“I bet dealing with a stutter and having to manage your time so much at such a young age was difficult.” Christen comments, thinking about how she made schoolwork her priority. She wonders if Tobin got teased for her speech impediment as a kid. When she was younger, she could get through her homework quickly and not have any problems, after skipping two grades and finally being challenged with her classes, she maintained a strict routine for herself. She imagines Tobin would have done something similar while playing soccer. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, shifting a little, her eyes dropping slightly, not looking at Christen, “my parents made sure I had the best tutors, and saw my teachers before school, I did everything I could, all sorts of extra credit, but I still struggled so bad,” she says quietly, “actually, it wasn’t until my sophomore year in college my National Team coach finally figured out I had a learning disability.” 

Christen straightens her back, “Oh?” As a teacher, she hates the idea that Tobin struggled for so long without being helped. 

Tobin nods, still not making eye contact, she feels kind of embarrassed talking about it, especially to the woman across from her who is so incredibly smart. “When Pia Sundhage took over the National Team and I got my first call ups, we were prepping for the Olympics,” she says, “and we were in, oh, I think China, and we were there for a bunch of games and a camp and I had all sorts of homework and papers to write and I was freaking out. Two of the older players kind of took me under their wings and were so nice to me about asking how I was doing, what were the issues, and stuff like that.” 

“That’s nice they were concerned,” Christen comments.

“Yeah,” Tobin bobs her head, licking her lips and looking at the fire as she continues, “so anyway, they must have talked to coach, because then Pia calls me in for a meeting, which terrified me, I thought they were going to send me home or something, but she was so sweet and honest about if one person is struggling on the team then we all struggle and how can she help.” 

“What a good person,” Christen murmurs. She feels this is important what Tobin is sharing with her and she can clearly see how uncomfortable Tobin is but is willing to talk about it. 

Tobin nods, “She’s a great person,” she says, glancing at her, “I just kind of lost it, I felt I was stupid for years, just not getting stuff and having to study so hard and so much and I wanted to quit school and go play in Europe and just leave because it was so hard for me. It all spilled out that night, how I felt I wasn’t smart enough to be there, I couldn’t remember stuff, I had trouble concentrating.” 

Christen reaches over and grabs Tobin’s hand, giving her an encouraging smile. Tobin gives her a small smile back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, Tobin’s eyes are clouded with a mix of emotions. 

“So, Barny and Buehler, the two players I was talking about, they helped me with my work, and Pia, like, she knows people all over the world, like, seriously. A day later, after practice, she calls me in and says I have a meeting tomorrow with this friend of hers who wants to see exactly what I struggle with in school and with the team in soccer. The next day, this nice lady, Ling, follows me the whole day, from breakfast to practice, to down time when I do my homework to our evening meetings before and after dinner. Basically from breakfast to bedtime. We do that for two days, the same thing, she follows me everywhere. The next day, after practice, Pia has me come to one of the meeting rooms and Ling gives me a series of tests, some different vision ones and ones like quizzes and mind teasers and crossword puzzles and essay questions and stuff.” 

“Woah,” Christen says, squeezing her hand. Tobin nods at her, finally full looking at her, feeling the comfort and a strength from her touch. 

“So, it happens again the next day, she follows me all around and then at night, I have to take a bunch of tests, but this time it’s all soccer related, Pia is in there and gives her usual pregame planning, then she explains new set pieces and offensive structures. She leaves and Ling quizzes me on the information I had just listened to.” 

“The next day is a game day and she’s there. She asks me to humor her and for me to take notes all day, take notes in meetings, take notes during our walk through on the pitch, take notes in the locker room before the match, and take notes for Pia’s meeting after our match. She gives me this little notebook and a sweet pen. So, I do. I take that notebook with me and all day I take notes about stuff.” 

“And?” Christen asks, clearly enthralled with her story. Tobin takes a sip of her nearly empty wineglass. 

She licks her lips before continuing. “I played nearly a full ninety that night,” she says, “I was dead tired, I was sore, I just wanted to sleep. But Pia asked me to meet Ling after our post game meal in that same room and she gave me another quiz. Afterwards, she didn’t say anything except that she would see me tomorrow.” 

Tobin gives Christen’s hand a squeeze before letting go, shifting and pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around her shins. 

“I didn’t see Ling the next morning, so I asked Pia and she told me we would have a meeting after dinner that night. I was a wreck all day, I couldn’t stop fidgeting, I was nervous and kept thinking the worst things, my mind was racing that I was too much of head case that they wouldn’t want me on the team. I actually began packing my stuff before Cheney stopped me. It was a recovery day, so we weren’t supposed to be doing much, but I couldn’t help it. I took a ball and kicked it around the parking lot for hours. They had to come get me for dinner, I couldn’t eat. I felt sick.” 

“How awful,” Christen murmurs, frowning. 

“Yeah,” Tobin scratches at her neck, “so after dinner, Pia calls me for the meeting and when I get there, the room is kind of full of people. All the coaches, the medical and training staff are there. I must have looked like I was going to pass out or something. They had me sit down and Ling began to speak.” 

“What did she say?” Christen asks, scooting closer to Tobin, reaching a hand out to place it on her knee. She needs to feel Tobin right now. 

“She said I had a busy mind, busy hands and busy feet.” Tobin states. 

Christen tilts her head, “Huh?” 

“She went on to explain that she felt I had a form of ADHD and it wouldn’t let me concentrate on things and I had a serious memory retention deficit. She told me how my tests results improved dramatically when I took notes, the act of writing things down helped me to keep it in my head. She didn’t approve of Western drugs, didn’t think I should take Adderall or anything like it. She felt that as an athlete, if I had a more structured diet it would improve some of the edginess I felt, like eliminating a lot of sugar, and as long as I worked out regularly, I would be able to use that as a physical release. She felt I would greatly improve my grades and soccer knowledge by increasing my note taking. She explained I had an anxiety condition and at night or when I can’t shut off my brain, I needed a mild sedative.” 

“Wow!” Christen’s eyes go wide, “What did you think of that?” 

“I just kind of lost it again, I was crying and upset,” she replies, “Pia cleared the room and it was just me, her, Jill and Ling. Jill was her assistant coach back then,” she explains, “When I could finally talk, I think I said I something about being stupid and they were all over me, reassuring me I wasn’t and it wasn’t my fault and now there was a way to help me. They were super encouraging and reassuring and really made me feel better about myself.” 

“I’m glad,” Christen nods, rubbing her hand on Tobin’s leg, “that had to be so hard.” 

Tobin nods, sniffing and flicking a tear from under her eye, she still gets emotional about it. “I found out afterwards that Ling was like, one of the top doctors in the country for special needs in China, like, super important." She shakes her head, "When I got back to UNC, the medical and team liaisons and counselors took over and spent the next two weeks getting a bunch of tests done and having to talk with an educational therapist.” 

“Did that get you on track?” Christen wants to know. 

“Not exactly,” Tobin sighs, “the NCAA wasn’t a fan of Ling’s preferred sedative so I had try out a bunch of different drugs to find something that worked for me.” She frowns, “I don’t remember much of the spring semester, I was in a fog most of the time from the different meds they had me on.” 

“But you finally got it under control?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, dropping her hand down and linking her fingers with Christen’s hand, “I did,” 

“Do you still take meds now?” 

“Not exactly,” Tobin says, her eyes once again clouding over and her expression changing to one of uncertainty, “I, uh, I found something else that helps that’s a little unconventional.” 

Christen is silent, suddenly thinking she knows what Tobin is talking about without her saying it. “Pot?” 

Tobin looks at the fireplace, nodding her head. 

“Hey,” Christen says quietly, using two of her fingers to turn Tobin’s jaw so she’s looking at her, “it’s fine with me, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know enough biology and chemistry to understand the benefits of marijuana in a medicinal setting. Is that what Ling had suggested years ago?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies, “but U.S. Soccer wasn’t going to go to bat for one player to get a medicinal card at that time. It wasn’t seen as something appropriate.” 

“But times have changed now, huh?” Christen asks, a gentle smile on her face. 

“Yeah,” Tobin agrees, “I wasn’t sure what you’d think,” she says, swallowing hard, “it’s not something I tell a lot of people about.” 

“I understand,” Christen nods, “I don' have a problem with it, won’t speak of it, I promise.” 

“I know,” Tobin gives her a soft smile, “now I guess you know why you intimidate me so much,” 

Christen’s eyes fly open wide, “Why would I ever intimidate you?” 

Tobin looks at her with disbelief, “Oh, I don’t know, Miss Skip Two Grades AND Go To College At Age Sixteen maybe?” 

Christen drops her hand and leans back with her palms on the blanket to support herself, looking at Tobin. “I hope you didn’t feel I was ever judging you,” she says quietly, her voice filled with hurt. 

“No,” Tobin replies, uncomfortably, “I, just,” she swallows again, her mouth dry, “you’re just so smart and have your shit together and I’m just a dumb jock.” 

“Woah, okay,” Christen says, a fire lighting in those green eyes, “wait just a second there,” she says. “For one, I don’t think you are stupid at all. You have to be incredibly smart to understand the nuances of soccer, being able to read defenses, offensive set pieces, not to mention the training, doing your workout properly and the nutrition science. Let’s not even discuss the ridiculous amount of talent you have playing either.” She’s warming up to this, moving and kneeling before Tobin who looks like a lost puppy right now.

“Second, I don’t have my shit together, I’m a mess. Skipping grades at such a young age fucks up your head, Tobin. It isn’t all roses and A pluses on papers. It’s a lot of bullying, it’s feeling like you have excel at any cost, it’s near paralyzing fear you’ll disappoint your teachers, your parents, it’s straining your relationships with your siblings who think you’re the Golden Child.” Christen is waving her hands as she speaks to emphasize her words. 

“Then, once you’re out of school, it’s proving yourself to academic blowhards who look down on you, it’s resentment from your peers because of your age. It fucking sucks. I use yoga and meditation to ground myself from letting my mind go crazy with my self-doubts and insecurities. It took me years to find that outlet. I’m not, by any means, perfect or even close to it.” 

Tobin is just staring up at her, her mouth slightly open. 

“Third,” Christen holds up three fingers, “as a teacher, I understand that everyone learns differently, some by listening, others by doing, most by reading. But everyone is different. We’re all wired differently, how we hear and filter facts, how we interpret emotions. How we retain knowledge. I get it. And it matters to me to know it and remember, that in times of importance, if something needs to be written for you to remember- that’s completely fine with me. It doesn’t make me think you’re stupid. It’s how you’re wired. If I don’t consciously take the time to meditate and do yoga and clear my mind, I don’t feel right all day. It’s how I am. If you need to write things down, that’s how you are.”

She falls back on her legs, extending her hands out to Tobin for her to take. “Tobin,” she says, her voice now quiet and emotional, “honey, I really like you, and I know you like me,” she pauses, “my being attracted to you is because of who you are as a person, not just the soccer player, not just the artist, just you as a whole. I don’t care if you use weed sometimes, I don’t care that you have a memory issue and that you might need to write things down, because we click. I feel it. I know you feel it. We get along so well, I feel like we are so compatible.” 

“I do, too,” Tobin says quietly, “I’m sorry,” her voice cracks. She hates when she gets emotional talking about her learning issues. 

“Sshh,” Christen hushes her, smiling gently, “it’s okay,” she says, “it’s not the first time someone has been intimidated by me, I get it, I do. But I’m just a girl, who likes you for you.” She leans forward and kisses Tobin softly on the lips, drawing back a few inches to look at her, “And I hope you’ll like me for me.” 

“I do,” Tobin whispers, “so much,” she says, bringing a hand up to hold the back of Christen’s head as she kisses her. The two of them embrace, hands on each other’s sides, fingers gripping each other tightly. Soon Christen takes hold of Tobin’s wrists, urging her to move her hands up her stomach to her breasts. Tobin kneads her breasts as they kiss, moaning into her mouth as she feels Christen’s nipples hardening through her sweater. 

Kahleesi begins to whine and Morena jumps off the couch, jumping up on the two of them, pawing at them. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Christen says, elbowing Morena off them, “go!” she orders her, pointing her finger to a dog bed in the corner. Morena slowly heads over there. 

Tobin still has her hands on Christen’s chest, looking at her with an amused smile. “Not in front of the kids, huh?” she smirks. Christen grips Tobin’s wrists, lowering her hands from her breasts, “Give me a minute,” she says, picking up the plate and standing up, “just sit there and hold that thought,” she says, “come on girls,” she calls, heading to the kitchen with the pooches following her. She lets them out in the yard and returns to stand before Tobin. 

She slips out of shoes, kicking them aside, “No distractions,” she says, bending down and lifting the hem of her sweater dress over her, revealing her nude body, “I want you,” she says, looking at Tobin with a mix of desire, affection and pure lust, “I need you,” 

Tobin eyes drop from meeting Christen’s darkened green ones, traveling over her body, now realizing Christen wasn’t wearing anything under that dress the whole night. She shifts and kneels before her, her hands lingering around Christen’s ankles, slowly moving up her calves, circling them lightly, reveling in the smoothness she feels. She kneels and   
caresses the front of her thighs, now feeling Christen’s hands on her shoulders, then lightly scratching the back of her scalp. She moves her hands, her thumbs just teasing her inner thighs, her grip growing stronger, pressing Christen’s legs apart, spreading her out in front of her. She steps closer, nuzzling her center, inhaling her scent, getting so turned on from this. 

“Fuck,” she mutters into the side of Christen’s leg, “you smell so good,” she says, it comes out slow and lazy, her words near moaning. Her hands now firmly grip Christen’s hips, massaging it as she angles her head and takes her first taste of her. Christen’s wet, very wet and Tobin takes a moment to lap at her juices, feeling Christen’s hands move into her hair, slowly raking her fingers through it, gently pressing her head into her, moving her hips to create an achingly slow rhythm to match the music playing in the background. 

“Oh, Tobin,” Christen moans out, inhaling deeply, feeling heady from her touch as Tobin’s tongue works into her, circling her opening and then plunging in. Tobin pulls back after a minute, taking Christen’s hand and guiding her to lay next to her, placing a pillow behind her head and another under her hips. She resumes her position, her head in between Christen’s spread legs, hands running over her thighs, “I can’t get enough of you,” Tobin says, her voice low and rough, Christen feeling her hot breaths on her thigh, “we’re gonna take this nice and slow,” 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still trucking along, building up the relationship, establishing the trust between the two. Something is going to happen in the next few chapters that will test their trust, shake each of them up and how they react to it. Will the foundation they've built be able to handle it?
> 
> Hope you stick around to find out. 
> 
> And thanks for the comments and kudos- they're appreciated. Very much.


	20. Another Wrinkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen attends a housewarming party that Monica makes an appearance at.

.

 

December 2, 2015 

Day 33 

 

Tobin winces slightly as she pedals on the stationary bike, adjusting her position on the saddle, sore from last night’s activities. Feeling the sweat roll down her back, she pushes herself, increasing her pace, watching as the speedometer climbs, her legs pumping, getting herself into her target heart rate zone. She can’t help but let a sly grin spread across her face, thinking about last night. 

After Tobin took an agonizingly slow time in getting Christen off on the floor in front of the fireplace, Christen led her to her bed and pounced on her, teasing her for what seemed like forever, bringing her to the brink multiple times, only to back off and slow things down until Tobin was begging and pleading for her to finish her off. Tobin had a nearly out of body experience when she finally got off. She felt like she twitched for hours after, her body hypersensitive to every touch. 

She was exhausted, her throat hurt from being so dry and rough. Her limbs were numb, her side ached from her heavy breathing, but she’d never felt better in her whole life. It was easy for Christen to convince her to stay the night, she could barely leave the bed to shower with her. Once they came back to bed, dressed in shorts and t-shirts, Tobin was asleep as soon as she hit the pillow. 

She didn’t remember the conversation she had with Christen about what time she needed to be at Providence for her workout but Christen had set an alarm and was up and dressed before Tobin even heard her moving around. Christen had sent the dogs in to wake up Tobin, claiming she tried multiple times to get her out of bed, Tobin moaning she needed more sleep. 

When she finally padded out to the kitchen, she was hit with the smell of bacon and a mug of tea. Christen fed her, urging her to hurry so she could go home and change and be on time. She kissed her at the door on her way out, Tobin wanting to linger, but Christen swatting her butt and telling her to get a move on. 

Tobin got back home and changed, making sure to grab her gear bag and making a mental note to keep it in her car so this wouldn’t have to happen again. She had enough time to stop and get a small coffee, she needed the caffeine boost and still was on time. 

It would have been fine if she was late, there wasn’t any penalties for being tardy, but Tobin respects her teammates and the staff she works with to not be there at the typical start time. 

 

The display on the bike beeps, indicating her workout is over, she slows her movements, gradually cooling down. She grabs her towel to wipe her face and arms as she stops the bike, nodding to Sonnett who is still pedaling like a mad woman on the bike next to her. 

Warmed up, Tobin goes to the mat to stretch out, then head to the machines. Today is an upper body day, then after a quick snack, the group will head to the indoor arena for some footwork and shooting drills. 

 

 

Tobin smiles as she looks at her phone, Allie elbowing her. “What’s up?” 

“Christen,” Tobin smiles, “she sent a text wishing me a good workout,” 

“Aw,” Allie grins, “that’s sweet,” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, blushing a little, “she’s really terrific.” 

“Do you know where you’re going for dinner tomorrow?” Allie asks as she finishes her fruit salad. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods as she swallows her fruit salad, “Portland City Grill,” she says, looking up at her, “have you been there?” 

Allie nods, “Yes, it’s on the thirtieth floor of the Bancorp building,” she replies, sipping her water. “It’s very nice, very pricey and very dressy.” 

“Like, dress, dressy?” Tobin asks, peering at her from over her water bottle. 

“Yes,” Allie confirms. “You should ask Christen what she’s wearing,” 

Tobin straightens up, “Why?” 

“At least ask her what color,” Allie continues, “so you won’t clash.” 

“Oh,” Tobin nods, pursing her lips together, she twists her mouth and then grabs her phone. She texts Christen, asking her what she is wearing because Allie doesn’t want her to clash. She chuckles. 

“What?” Allie asks, looking up from her phone. 

“I asked her to let me know her outfit,” Tobin smirks, taking another drink. 

“And?” Allie asks suspiciously due to the look on Tobin’s face. 

“Because you were concerned I would clash with her.” Tobin chuckles. 

“Oh, real funny!” Allie smacks her arm. 

Tobin laughs, threatening to spill some of her water on her. 

“Stop!” Allie squeals, fighting her off with slaps to her arm. Tobin’s phone chirps, and she grabs it. 

She reads the response from Christen, shaking her head and chuckling. 

“What?” Allie asks, collecting her plate and fork and walking to the dirty dish tray. 

“She said to thank you for asking because she thought it would be weird to ask me,” Tobin reads, “and she’s wearing a medium grey dress and her sister is wearing a black dress.” 

“Wear the maroon long sleeve,” Allie says immediately, “you look amazing in it and it won’t be too loud with what they’re wearing,” 

Tobin’s eyebrows raise, she hadn’t really thought of what she would wear, she figured she would do that tomorrow afternoon. “Uh, the black ankle boots cool?” She figures why not get the whole outift complete.

“Yes,” Allie nods, “Mmm, maybe that long gold necklace you have, that would work and your thin gold watch.” 

“Cool,” Tobin nods, “thanks.” 

“Do you want me to come over and do your hair?” Allie offers. Then she frowns, “Wait,” she grabs her phone, scrolling at something, “shoot. I can’t” she scrunches up her face, “I   
have to take the dogs to the vet for their shots.” 

“It’s okay,” Tobin reassures her, “I was thinking of leaving it down, maybe just put some loose curls in,” 

“Perfect.” Allie confirms with a nod of her head. 

“We talked about the thing last night,” Tobin says quietly, “my memory,” 

“And?” Allie asks, peering at her closely. 

“We discussed it,” Tobin bobs her head, “I told her how smart she was intimidated me,” 

“And?” Allie circles her hand for Tobin to continue. 

“She was,” Tobin thinks for a second, “passionate that it wasn’t a problem, as a person and an educator, she understands that people learn in all sorts of ways and I shouldn’t feel less than because I have this deficit.” 

“Good,” Allie smiles, “did you bring it up?” 

Tobin nods. 

“Proud of ya,” Allie side hugs her, “that took courage,” she says, “I know it’s scary.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin fiddles with her water bottle, “she was pretty awesome about it,” 

Allie looks at her watch and frowns, “We need to get moving,” she says. They were going to do some shooting drills next. Tobin stands up and walks her plate and fork over to the dirty dish bin, “Thanks, Harry,” she says, “I wouldn’t have thought about it,” Tobin says, “calling her about the outfits,” she clarifies. 

“No prob, Har,” Allie smiles, “now let’s see who scores the most.” 

When Tobin got home in the afternoon, before she took her nap, she went to her closet and found the dress, thankfully still in the plastic from the dry cleaners. She shook it out and hung it up, pleased she wouldn’t have to steam it. She found her boots she wanted to wear and then fell onto her bed. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“I thought you could keep me company while I got ready for this thing tonight,” Christen smiles at Tobin through the screen. She had Facetimed her, “Are you busy?” 

“Nope,” Tobin says, angling the phone against a bottle of laundry detergent, “I’m doing some laundry.” 

“Ooh, fun,” Christen wrinkles her nose. 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, right?” she says wryly, folding a shirt, “So, how was your day?” 

The two chatter as Tobin completes her task and puts another load in the washer, turning it on and leaving the little nook area it’s in and heading to her couch. Christen is in her bathroom, doing her hair. 

“I didn’t know you straighten it,” Tobin observes, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it straight,” 

Christen glances into the phone, arching an eyebrow, “Do you like it?” 

“I do,” Tobin replies, “you have the bone structure to wear your hair however and you’ll always look amazingly beautiful.” 

“Oh, flattery will get you everywhere,” Christen teases, although she blushes from the sincere compliment. 

“Just telling it like it is,” Tobin says, smiling at her, her eyes watching her closely. 

“You know, babe,” Christen says, glancing at her again, her eyes sparkling dangerously, “I think we kind of overdid it last night,” 

“And this morning?” Tobin grins. 

Christen nods, “I’m kind of sore,” 

“Oh, yeah,” Tobin chuckles, “try riding a spin bike first thing in the morning,” she says, “I was just waiting for Allie to tease me for walking funny.” 

Christen cracks up, laughing hard, hard enough to set the straightener down and hold her stomach. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in between her laughs, “That’s just such a visual,” 

“I seriously contemplated icing my crotch,” Tobin chuckles, “but that would have made it obvious,” 

“Tobin, stop!” Christen giggles, but Tobin doesn’t want to stop hearing her laughter. 

“Good thing it was an upper body day,” Tobin eggs her on, “I would’ve died at the squat rack!” 

Both are now laughing hard and just when things start to calm down, Christen lets out this snort of some kind, sending Tobin into another fit of hysterics. 

“We gotta stop,” Christen pants, “I have to finish,” 

“That’s what I was begging for last night,” Tobin quips, wiping her eyes from the tears that formed. 

“Stop!” Christen squeals, shaking her head at her, “I need to leave soon,” she says, “I have to get dressed,” 

“Okay,” Tobin chuckles, trying to maintain a straight face, “I’ll be good,” 

Christen sends her a playful glare, “You better,” 

Tobin lifts up two fingers, “Scout’s honor,” she promises, getting up from the crouch, “my face hurts from laughing so much,” she comments, rubbing her cheeks with one hand as she heads to the kitchen. She gets a water from her fridge, taking a sip, “So, serious question,” she says, “do you wear your hair like that a lot?” 

Christen shrugs as she resumes straightening it, “More often than not,” she replies, “do you not like it?” 

Tobin shakes her head, “No, I do,” she says, “I’m just thinking how distracted I’d be if had one of your classes and you came in looking like that,” she eyes her appreciatively, “you look smoking hot,” 

Christen sets down the straightener and looks at her with a mischievous look in her eyes, she slowly unbuttons her top, taking it off and revealing a white lacy bra. Her expression changes to one of seduction, “Well,” she says, her voice a little lower and breathy, “maybe next semester you can audit one of my classes and we can play a little student and teacher game,” she reaches for another shirt to put on. 

“Or maybe you can come over and help me with my homework,” Tobin says slowly, her voice low and sexy, but the smirk on her face shows she’s trying not to laugh, “I mean, I have a learning disability,” 

Christen bursts into laughter, “Oh, you did not just say that!” 

“Come on!” Tobin smiles, “It would be hot!” 

Christen glances at her watch, “I need to go,” she says, “you need to work on your lines,” she chuckles, “have a good night,” 

“I’ll work on it,” Tobin smiles, “have fun tonight,” 

“I’ll talk to you later, babe,” Christen smiles as she ends the call. 

Tobin shakes her head, feeling that warmth in her chest, she just likes Christen so much. She decides to find something for dinner and maybe call her Mom after she eats. 

 

XXXXX

 

 

Tobin is writing in her Thorns playbook, making notes to help her remember a particular set piece when her phone chirps. She sees it’s Christen. She looks at her watch and frowns when she sees it’s only eight-thirty. 

“Hey, babe,” She answers, “what’s up?” She hears sniffling, “Chris? What’s wrong?” 

“Is it okay if I come over?” Christen asks, “I can’t stay here,” 

“Yeah, of course,” Tobin says quickly, standing up and feeling her notebook and pen fall from her lap and clatter on the floor, “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Christen says unevenly, sniffing, “I just need you,” 

“Chris, should I come get you? Are you okay to drive?” Tobin’s concern is on high alert. 

“I can drive,” she says quietly, “I’m almost there,” 

“Come to the garage,” Tobin directs, “I’ll meet you there.” 

“I’ll be there in ten.” Christen says, still sniffling, “thank you, babe.” 

“Sure-” Tobin says then realizes she ended the call. Tobin heads to the hallway, putting on her shoes, grabbing her jacket and taking her keys. She heads off for the garage. 

 

Tobin’s beside Christen’s car before it stops moving as Christen parks, looking in to see the dogs are with her. Again, her level of concern peaks higher. 

Christen shuts off the car, unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door, looking up at Tobin with red swollen eyes, reaching her arms out to her. The dogs are subdued in the car, both sitting on the passenger seat looking at them. 

Tobin takes her in her arms, holding her close as Christen bursts in to fresh tears, burying her head in the crook of Tobin’s neck, sobbing quietly. Tobin doesn’t speak, although she has so many questions, she just holds her, humming softly, swaying slightly to let her know she’s with her. 

After a few minutes, when Christen has stopped crying and grown much calmer, she steps back from Tobin, wiping her eyes and looking at her, “Sorry for the dramatics,” she says, sighing, “can we go up to your place?” 

“Sure,” Tobin nods, rubbing her hand on Christen’s back, “let me get your things,” she says, moving around to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door and greeting the dogs, taking a hold of their leashes. 

Both animals are on their best behavior, sitting while Tobin reaches in and grabs a backpack and Christen’s briefcase. 

Tobin comes around where Christen is standing, her arms crossed, hugging herself and looking off in the distance. “Babe,” Tobin says quietly, not wanting to startle her, “let’s go,”  
Christen silently follows Tobin and the dogs indoors and to the elevator. Tobin chances a glance at her while they stand in the elevator, seeing how pensive she looks. She bites her lower lip, still bewildered at how they’ve arrived to Christen being here and so upset. 

Tobin marvels at how calm the dogs are, sitting patiently, their leashes slack, waiting for the doors to open when they reach Tobin’s floor. She realizes they sense the tension and that Christen is upset. 

When they get in Tobin’s place, Tobin unleashes the dogs, sets down Christen’s belongings, and offers to help Christen out of her jacket. She removes her own and hangs both up in the closet, placing a hand on the small of Christen’s back and guides her to the couch. 

Tobin lets her sit, noticing the dogs have planted themselves near the couch, not jumping up like they usually do. She goes to the kitchen, retrieves two bottles of water and comes back, sitting down next to the silent woman. She sets the bottles on the floor near her feet and then looks at Christen. 

“Babe?” she asks, tentatively placing her hand on Christen’s knee. She doesn’t push, she won’t demand Christen to tell her what’s going on, even though she’s dying to know. She wants her to feel safe and let her share whatever has happened at her pace. “Would you like something to drink?” she asks, reaching and holding up a water bottle. 

“Would you judge me if I asked if you have any whiskey?” Christen speaks, final letting her eyes drift over to look at Tobin. 

“Not at all,” Tobin gives her a small smile, “I’ll be right back, neat or on the rocks?” 

“Two fingers, two cubes,” Christen replies, Tobin hearing her sigh deeply as she leaves the couch, going on a hunt to find the bourbon. She can’t find the bottle she thought she had, so she opts for her favorite Irish whiskey. 

She comes back a few minutes later, holding two glasses, figuring Christen shouldn’t drink alone. Tobin rarely drinks straight whiskey, but on the few occasions she does, she prefers this one on the rocks, just a little chilled. 

“Here,” Tobin offers a glass to Christen and sits down next to her, shifting sideways on the couch so she’s looking directly at her, “I couldn’t find any bourbon,” 

“Thanks,” Christen murmurs, taking the glass and a sip. Her eyes pop open and she straightens up a little, “what is this?” she asks, taking another sip, “It’s really good,” 

“Tullamore Dew,” Tobin replies, taking a small sip herself, feeling the richness of the liquor, “it’s an Irish Whiskey,” she explains. Christen nods and takes another sip.

Christen sighs, “Monica came to Jen’s housewarming tonight,” she says quietly. Tobin straightens her spine, unconsciously leaning forward towards her and clenching her hand around her glass. 

“It was a shitshow,” she declares. “As soon as I saw she was there, I turned to Jen and told her I was leaving, I just wanted to get out of there,” she explains, “but then Monica was right behind us and starts making a scene. Jen, who knows about everything, tells Monica to leave, and Steve, Jen’s husband, is trying to make her get out.” 

“Oh, no,” Tobin says miserably, her hand finding the top of Christen’s thigh, “babe,” she murmurs, feeling awful. 

“I don’t know how it happened, but the next thing I see is Monica swinging around the fireplace poker, breaking their glass coffee table and threatening anyone who comes near her.” 

“No,” Tobin breathes out quietly, setting her drink down on the coffee table and scooting closer to her. 

“Here I am, surrounded by a bunch of coworkers and friends and I just want to crawl under a rock.” Christen shudders and takes a large chug of her drink. “Jen got me out of the room, the police were called and then I had to explain to them about the Order of Protection and show them the texts and they arrested her.” 

Tobin makes a sympathetic noise and moves even closer, squeezing Christen’s thigh to show her support. 

“I was so embarrassed,” Christen says, her voice trembling, “the things she was saying, it was awful.” 

Tobin takes the glass from Christen’s hand, turning and setting the drink down next to hers on the coffee table. “Oh, babe,” she says softly, slowly bringing her arm around her and drawing her near, feeling how Christen is shaking and leaning in to her. She brings her other arm in front of her to hold her, squeezing her gently and kissing the side of her head as she cries. She feels how Christen’s hands grip her sweatshirt, her head falling onto her chest, her cries muffled. Morena and Kahleesi’s heads are up, warily looking at Tobin. 

“She’s okay, girls,” Tobin says softly, “it’s okay,” she assures the animals. Both look unconvinced, as if Tobin might be hurting her, so they get up and approach the couch. She   
drops her arm to extend her hand to Kahleesi who sniffs at her rather suspiciously, then nudges her hand with head. Tobin offers her a few scritches under her chin and that seems to satisfy her. Both dogs sit in front of them, looking on. 

Tobin just holds her, slowly leaning back into the couch, bringing Christen closer to her, feeling her weight on her chest. She rubs her hand on Christen’s upper arm, feeling it would help ground her, let her know that she doesn’t mind being here and doing this with her. She wants Christen to feel comfortable with her, she’s happy Christen chose to come to her, that she said she needed her, that she’s come to count on her. 

She doesn’t speak, she knows she can’t give her any words of comfort. Something like this, having Monica come and make a scene, the police being there, she can only imagine how Christen is feeling right now. The utter mortification, the embarrassment, having her feeling of security lost. All of that unwanted attention placed on you. 

Tobin’s knows that feeling, back when some of her over zealous fans would camp out in front of her apartment, follow her around, it shakes you. It makes you nervous, makes you look over your shoulder. 

Hopefully, Monica would stop after this, she had her say, made her point and maybe now, with being arrested, she would just back off. She prays this would all just calm down and go away. 

Christen grows quieter, sniffling occasionally, releasing her grip on Tobin’s hoodie, wiping her eyes and nose. Tobin leans back and reaches for her box of Kleenex, silently handing it to her. Christen takes it with a grateful nod, wiping her eyes once more with the tissue and then blowing her nose. She balls up the tissue in her hand, letting her head fall back on Tobin’s shoulder, sighing noisily. 

Tobin kisses the side of her head once again, bringing her arm around the front of her once more. She leans her head against Christen’s, nuzzling against her softly. She just holds her, glancing up and noticing the dogs have laid down, eyes shut, sleeping near the couch. 

“Jen was really great,” Christen says suddenly, “she made sure I was as okay as I could be, she didn’t want me to leave,” 

“She’s a good friend,” Tobin offers quietly. 

“She is,” Christen nods slightly, “she was the first professor to actually talk to me in the department and not give me any bullshit.” She clears her throat, “Her and Sam are good friends,” she sniffs, “they know the whole deal with Monica, I’m sure they explained it to anyone there who didn’t know what was going on.” 

“That’s good,” Tobin replies, “I’m sure people will understand,” she says, giving her a little squeeze, “it’ll be okay. Not right now, maybe not tomorrow, but it will be okay.” 

“I know,” Christen nods, shifting a little, wanting to stay in her arms, but moving off her a little bit, “I just feel like people will think her actions are on a reflection of me or something, you know? Like, she’s unstable so maybe I’m unstable too,” 

“I get that,” Tobin says, “and for some of those people, maybe they will think that.” She slides from her and retrieves the glasses of whiskey, handing her the glass and then taking a sip of her own, “But that just means one of two things- they either don’t really know you, or they’re jealous of you and looking for some reason to knock you down.” 

“True,” Christen nods, taking a sip of her drink. 

“And either way,” Tobin continues, “there’s not much you can do about what they think of you. But you can’t let that bother you.” 

“You’re right,” Christen agrees, “I just have to move on,” she says, “it’s just shitty drama that I never wanted to have to experience.” 

“I’m sorry you are,” Tobin says sincerely, “I wish it were different,” 

Christen looks up into Tobin’s eyes, seeing those honey fleck brown pools filled with warmth and compassion, “Thank you,” she says quietly, puckering her lips and giving her a soft kiss. 

“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” Tobin asks, feeling that Christen’s calm enough to start talking about it now. 

Christen shakes her head, “No,” she says, “she never got that close,” she sighs, “I’m just so upset she hit Sam,” 

“Is he okay?” 

Christen nods, “Yeah, just a bruise,” she says, taking another sip, “the police took photos and she was charged with assault.” 

Tobin nods. 

“I think they ended up charging her with violating the order of protection, trespassing, assault, destruction of property, disorderly conduct,” she shrugs, “I don’t even know what else,” 

“Well, at least she’s in jail tonight,” Tobin says, “maybe this is the wake up call she needs to know you don’t want anything to do with her.” 

“I really hope so,” Christen says, shuddering a little. 

“Do you want some clothes to change into?” Tobin offers, “Get comfy?” 

“Yeah,” she says, “I’m getting a little cold,” she drains her glass, “Tobin, this whiskey is terrific,” 

Tobin smiles, “It’s a family favorite,” she says, “I don’t drink it often, but it is really good.” She moves aside and sits up, patting her leg, “You want sweats or leggings?” 

“Sweats,” Christen replies, standing up with her, “thank you.” 

Tobin offers her a hand, leading her to her bedroom. 

 

 

While Christen changed and removed her makeup, Tobin fed the dogs with some extra food Allie had stashed there for her dogs, Christen approving the kibble, happy it was the same brand she used. Tobin offered to take the dogs for a walk, insisting it was fine, offering her some time alone. She extended the walk, knowing Christen was on her phone, speaking with her Mom and then her sisters. 

Christen is biting her lower lip, her fingers moving fast on phone as she replies to the text messages she’s received from her friends who had heard what happened. Tobin is next to her on the couch, fighting sleep with Morena cuddled on her side. 

Christen glances over, realizing Tobin needs to go to bed. She rubs her leg, “Hon,” she says, “come on, let’s go to bed,” 

“I can stay here,” Tobin replies sleepily, not even opening her eyes, “I’m good.” 

“Let’s go to bed so you can sleep,” Christen offers, “I’ll just be a little longer.” 

 

XXXXX

 

It’s an hour later, the two are in bed, Tobin fast asleep, lying on her side, facing Christen. Christen looks over at her, tilting her head when she sees Tobin’s forehead creased, a frown on her face. She frowns as she studies her sleeping form, how her hand is balled in a fist near the pillow, how she looks tense. She sighs realizing how worried she must be about what happened tonight. 

Christen sets her phone down on the nightstand, reaching and clicking off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. She slides further down under the covers, rolling on her side to face Tobin. She moves closer, her legs sliding up against Tobin’s reaching over to put her hand on her hip. She doesn’t think she’ll sleep tonight, but then she feels Tobin shift and utter a soft hum, creeping closer to her and a wave of peace washes over her. She knows she’ll be okay if she has Tobin by her side. 

 

 

XXXX

 

“S-s-st-st-stop!” a voice rings out in the darkness, Christen cracking an eye open in alarm. She feels a knee hit her leg, Tobin is squirming beside her. Christen quickly turns on the light and faces Tobin. 

“Nnn-nn-no!” she cries, her arms moving, reaching for her. She can hear Tobin’s breathing heavy, 

“Sssshhh,” Christen soothes, bringing her hand to her head, stroking her hair. Tobin flinches, sitting up suddenly, “Chris!” she cries. 

“I’m here,” she says calmly, “I’m here, I’m fine, it’s okay,” 

“Sh-sh-she hu-hu-hur-hurt y-y-you,” Tobin stutters, nearly panting, “You wa-wa-wer-were blah-blah” she swallows hard, “blee-blee-” she shakes her head with frustration. 

“I’m fine,” Christen assures her, gently pulling her down, “it was just a dream, I’m okay.” 

“C-C-Chris,” Tobin cries, catching her breath, “s-s-s-s-s-so re-re-re-re-” she winces as she utters a growl, shaking her head, “it was so re-re-re-re-ugh!” She slams her head back on a pillow a couple of times, her frustration evident. 

Christen looks and sees how Tobin’s eyes are glossy, as if she’s not totally awake. She shifts and turns off the light, rolling over and taking her in arms, she presses herself up against her, pushing her to her side so she can spoon her. 

“Just breathe,” she soothes, hoping this helps her calm down, “relax, I’m here, I’m fine,” 

Tobin shudders, whimpering and noisily breathing through her mouth, still fidgeting in Christen’s grasp. Christen holds her tight, not letting her free, softly issuing words of comfort. Eventually Tobin calms, her breathing evening out and her body relaxing. 

Christen lies there thinking about Tobin, how calming she was for her. How she said all the right things, being so gentle and truthful. She didn’t sugar coat the situation, maybe because she has some experience with stalkers and understands how Christen is feeling. Whatever it is, Christen just feels so fucking safe with her, so understood. Even when Tobin doesn’t understand something, she’s invested enough to want to find out. She wants to know how Christen is feeling, but is just so gentle with her it makes Christen swoon. 

Now, this awful thing has happened to her, Monica coming in a ruining a fun evening and Tobin is so upset about it she has a nightmare. She feels terrible that this invaded the woman’s dreams, but there’s this feeling that Christen can’t exactly explain. That Tobin is so worried and cares for her, it just makes Christen feel loved. 

Holy shit, Christen tenses up, does she love me, she wonders. I think I might love her, she considers, it’s pretty soon but it just feels fucking right. She rubs Tobin’s arm as she thinks, yeah, I could see myself with her, she smiles in the dark room, I do think I’m falling in love with her. 

Then she frowns, but now isn’t the time to talk about that, she thinks, not with this Monica stuff going on. Tobin might feel weird about it, professing my love to her while my crazy ex is stalking me. I’ll just wait, there will come the perfect moment, she reasons, that time and place when I’ll know it’s right to tell her. 

Christen adjusts her grip, tangling her legs with Tobin’s and slipping her hand under Tobin’s arm, wriggling it to her stomach. Satisfied that Tobin is sleeping, Christen allows herself to relax, doing her best to clear her mind and then drops off herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the home stretch now, things are moving into place, more feelings will be shared, some angst, some tears and laughter, leading up to the end of this tale. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who've stuck around. The kudos and comments have been so appreciated- thank you.


	21. Love Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin meets Christen's sister Channing at the fancy restaurant. 
> 
> On Friday, Christen watches the show with Channing and love talk ensues. 
> 
> Tobin watches the show with some teammates and after they leave, her and Allie have a sit down to talk.

December 3, 2015 

Day 34 

“Harry, I just feel so helpless,” Tobin says, running her hand through her head and then pulls it back into a ponytail. “She was so upset,” she says, “it was awful.” 

Allie shakes her head sympathetically, “That’s terrible,” she says, “but it’s good that the Police took her into custody, it’s documented now.” 

“Yeah, but it sounds like this chick could really be a psycho,” Tobin frowns, “I don’t want anything to happen to her.” 

“Where is Christen now?” Allie asks, lacing up turf shoes. 

“My place,” Tobin replies, bending over to lace her shoes up as well, “she spent the night and is hanging out there until she picks her sister up from the airport.” 

“She won’t be alone,” Allie scrunches up her mouth, “she’ll just have to be alert.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says glumly, “I just wish there was something more I can do,” 

Allie stands up, clapping Tobin on her back, “Just be there for her,” she says, “it sucks, but there’s not much you can do.” 

Tobin stands, “Yeah,” she says, doing a few quick hops to make sure her shoes feel good, “I asked her to just keep in touch today,” 

“You’re seeing her tonight still, right?” Allie asks as they walk towards the indoor field, “Meeting her sister?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles wide, “I am.” 

“Nice,” Allie says with a smile, “big step.” 

Tobin grins, “Ready for it,” she says, nodding, “looking forward to it,” 

“I’m happy for ya, Tobin,” Allie grins, “she seems like a great person,” 

“Oh, she-” Tobin starts, getting cut off by Kling. 

“Let’s go!” Kling yells, “Less talking, more stretching!” she teases, smiling at them. 

“That’s my line!” Allie yells back, breaking into a jog, Tobin moving in step with her, the smile still on her face. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“So, we’ll just meet you there in the bar, okay?” Christen says, as she finishes steaming her dress. She’s in her room, with Tobin on speaker and Channing is sitting on the bed with the dogs. 

“Sounds great,” Tobin replies, “can’t wait.” 

“Okay, babe,” Christen says, smiling as she unplugs her steamer, “I’m going to finish getting ready and we’ll see you soon.” 

“Cool,” Tobin says, “oh, hey,” she pauses, “um, so, ah, what type of hobbies does Channing have?” She’s not aware she’s on speaker. 

Channing lifts an eyebrow as Christen turns to the phone on her dresser. “Oh, she likes to hike and play tennis and she’s into Crossfit.” 

“Cool,” Tobin says, “that’s cool.” 

“Honey,” Christen says, smiling as she looks at Channing who is grinning, “you’ll be fine, there’s no need to be nervous,” 

“I know, I know,” Tobin replies quickly, “I just,” she pauses, “I haven’t done this in forever,” she admits, her voice dropping in volume and pitch, “you know,” she says, “like, meeting the family thing. I just, I just want tonight to be cool.” 

“Of course, it will be cool,” Christen grins, “I’ll be there. Don’t worry babe, it will be fine.” 

“Okay,” Tobin agrees, “you’re right,” she says, clearing her throat, her nerves still evident, “I’m going to get ready, I’ll see you guys there.” 

“Alright, later babe,” 

“See ya.” Tobin says and ends the call. 

“She’s so sweet!” Channing bursts, “Chrissy, you didn’t tell me how adorable she is!” 

Christen points a finger at her, “You can _not_ tease her tonight Chan,” she says sternly, “when she’s nervous she doesn’t realize when someone’s teasing her.” 

Channing lifts her hands in surrender, “I won’t,” she nods, “I promise.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin smoothes her hair down as she checks her reflection on the mirrored wall in the elevator. When the bell chimes that she’s reached the thirtieth floor, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly through her pursed lips. The doors open and she exits, seeing the entrance to the restaurant. She spies the coat check and heads over, greeting the woman behind the counter, handing over her long black wool coat and receiving her ticket. She asks where the bar is located and nods when the woman directs her to the right after entering the restaurant. 

She glances at her gold watch on her wrist, grinning a little seeing she’s right on time. She likes to be prompt. She quickly sees Christen at the near end of the bar, in an animated discussion, her hands moving a she speaks. Her hair is pulled back with a bun on top and her long straight hair coming down softly on her shoulders. She’s wearing large silver hoop earrings and an interesting necklace the meets her modest neckline over her elegant medium grey dress, her eyes sparkling and she’s smiling as she speaks with another woman who has her back to Tobin. She notices there is a space in between them, a chair unoccupied, meaning she’ll sit between the two. 

Tobin is smiling as she approaches, coming to Christen’s side and touching her arm that’s casually on the back of her chair she’s sitting sideways in. “Hi,” she greets, “how’s it going?” 

“Hi,” Christen smiles wider, leaning to her side to give her a quick peck of a kiss, “how are you?” 

“Good,” Tobin replies, seeing how Christen’s expression slowly melts, her smile fading as her mouth drops open, her eyes crawling over Tobin. When Christein doesn’t speak for a moment, Tobin glances over to the other woman who is looking incredibly amused at the speechless Christen. 

“Hi, I’m Tobin,” she greets, extending her hand. 

The woman turns to her, chuckling as she shakes her hand, “Channing,” she says, glancing again at Christen who hasn’t yet recovered, “nice to meet you,” 

“You too,” Tobin grins, glancing over as Christen is now staring at Tobin’s legs. 

Channing delivers a soft kick to Christen’s shin, “Chrissy,” she says, completely amused, “you’re drooling.” 

Christen instinctively brings her hand up to her mouth, blinking rapidly and letting a breath out. “You look amazing,” she says to Tobin, smiling wide, “oh,” she says, suddenly realizing she’s not alone, shaking her head a little and straightening in her chair, “this is Channing,” 

Tobin grins, “We met,” sending a wink over to Channing who is laughing. 

“Sit down,” Channing chuckles, pulling the chair between her and Christen out, “what would you like to drink?” 

 

 

“So Tobin,” Channing says as they eat, “I understand you like to paint,” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, just for fun and as a release type thing,” she replies, “nothing super serious.” 

“Do you just use brushes or are you into other stuff?” Channing follows up. 

“Mostly brushes,” Tobin answers, “I like using acrylics because they dry pretty fast,” she says, taking a sip of her wine, “but I’ve used watercolors before, they’re kind cool.” 

“My husband and I were at Fisherman’s Wharf once, hanging out and there were these street artists,” Channing shakes her head, “they were doing these amazing pictures using spray paint, like making something unreal in just minutes.” 

Christen smiles as she eats, enjoying the exchange and how well the two are getting along. 

Tobin’s eyes brighten up, “I’ve seen them too,” she says rapidly, “it’s incredible to watch!” She thinks for a moment, then speaks, “I’ve always wanted to get into using an airbrush,” she says, “but I never seem to make the time to research it, figure out what would be the best one for me,” she says, “living in an apartment, I don’t really have the space to leave stuff out,” she shrugs, “maybe one day when I get my own place.” 

“Tom has one,” Channing states, Tom is her husband, “he’s into making model cars and giving them cool paint jobs, it’s so neat to watch him.” 

From there the subject moves to realistic dioramas in museums they’ve seen and how intricate they are. Christen joins in speaking about the ones she saw in Chile when she was there for a school trip and how they could tell the story without knowing the language. 

The rest of the meal goes well, Channing sharing a couple of funny stories of Christen as a kid and Tobin sharing some of hers that were similar in the embarrassment factor so Christen wouldn’t feel like she was being picked on. 

 

 

“So, I’ll see you Saturday night, right?” Tobin asks Channing while they wait for Christen to return from the restroom. 

“Yeah,” Channing smiles, “you know, my husband and I come up here for a week in the summer,” she says, “I know you’ll be in season, but let’s try to get together then okay?” 

“Absolutely,” Tobin grins, “this was really nice,” she rubs her jaw, “I’m sore from laughing at your stories about the ER.” 

Channing is an Emergency Room nurse and had shared some stories of the unusual and hilarious people and cases she’s seen. The whole dinner had been fun, light hearted, and full of easy conversation. 

“Sure was,” Channing agrees, “I’ve never seen my sister this happy,” she says, touching Tobin’s elbow, “and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve been so awesome for her with this whole Monica thing,” 

Tobin sucks in air between her teeth, “Ah,” she says, frowning a little, “I just feel so helpless, I wish there was more we could do.” 

Channing looks at her seriously, “Believe me,” she says, “you have no idea how much she appreciates you,” 

Tobin nods, glancing to see Christen approach with the coats. 

“Ready?” Christen asks, smiling at them, oblivious to their serious conversation. 

“I can’t wait until spring,” Tobin laments as she puts on her coat, “at least it hasn’t snowed yet.” 

When they arrive at ground level, Channing steps out first, “I need to call Tom,” she says, “you order the Uber,” she elbows Christen. She winks at Tobin as she walks away, giving the two a moment alone. 

“I got it,” Tobin says, her hands already reaching for her phone, opening the app. “I’ll take you guys home,” she says, “is that alright?” She quickly orders the vehicle. 

Christen takes her hand and leads her to the near wall of the mostly deserted lobby, Channing had walked near the doors, her back to them. “Kiss me,” Christen husks, “I need you to kiss me,” 

Tobin leans in and gently places her lips against Christen’s kissing her softly, “You really look amazing tonight,” Christen breathes, resting her forehead against Tobin’s, “I was speechless at how beautiful you are.” 

Tobin feels Christen’s arms around her, pressing her up against the wall, she dips her head down and kisses her deeply, feeling how Christen grips the back of head, pulling lightly at her hair. She moans into Christen’s mouth, suddenly coming to her senses and realizing where they are. She extends her arms out, making Christen step back a little, breaking contact with her, smiling at her. 

“Let’s not start something we can’t finish,” she says quietly, moving her hand to touch the small of Christen’s back, guiding her towards the main part of the lobby. 

“Chicken,” Christen mutters with a smile. She skips a few steps in front of Tobin, extending her hand for Tobin to take, gripping it lightly and swinging it as they meet up with Channing. 

“Come on,” Tobin now pulls her along, “the Uber is almost here.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

December 4, 2015 

Day 35 

 

“It was great, Har,” Tobin grins as she wipes the counter, collecting the loose pieces of shredded lettuce she spilled over when she cut it up. Allie came over early to help her cook before everyone came over to watch this week’s episode. “The food was out of this world, everything was perfect,” 

“That’s awesome,” she smiles, popping s few pieces of black olives into her mouth, “so, her sister is nice?” 

“Oh yeah,” Tobin nods, “she’s super cool, really funny,” she finishes putting some cling wrap on the lettuce bowl and turns to place it in the fridge, “she’s coming out on Saturday night too,” 

“Cool,” Allie nods, “it’ll be nice that you’ll sort of know her,” she says, “won’t be so overwhelming meeting her other friends.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin agrees, “we’re going to have dinner at Christen’s and then go out to some bar to meet up,” she says, looking over everything on the counter, mentally nodding that she has it all together. She just has to cook the meat when they get here. “I’m gonna stay there,” she continues, “so I won’t disturb Alex,” 

“Oh, right,” Allie says, stealing some more olives, “she’s probably in the air now,” 

Tobin nods, moving the olives away from Allie, “Yeah,” she nods, “you’re still coming to brunch Sunday, right?”

“Yeah,” Allie answers, “eleven, right?” 

“That’s the plan,” Tobin nods, a knock at the door gets both of their attention. “I’ll get it,” Tobin says, heading down the hallway. 

“Aw, no Christen?” Emily whines, looking around, “I wanted to hang with her,” she frowns, walking past Tobin and heading to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a beer she brought and placing the rest on a shelf. 

“Sorry,” Tobin apologizes, “you’ll just have to do with my company,” she shrugs, “I know, old and boring,” she smirks. 

“Ah,” Emily says, taking a long pull of her beer, “you’re not too boring,” she smirks. 

“Just old,” Lindsey grins, putting an arm around her, “So, how’s it going with her? She’s super cool,” 

Tobin grins, “Really good,” she says, taking a swig of her beer, “you know, when you’re my age, your relationships are more meaningful and mature.” She smirks at the two of them, tossing a balled up napkin at Emily. 

Allie laughs, “True,” she says, “so, hey,” she looks at Lindsey and Emily, “how are things for you guys here? You like it so far?” 

Emily nods, “The facilities are awesome,” she says, “everyone is cool.” Emily worked out with them at a separate facility, not owned by the Thorns. It was a preferred facility that most of the team used in the off season. 

“Yeah,” Lindsey adds, “I mean, Gavin told me I’m a lock to get signed, they have my rights.” 

“Yeah, he told me they would trade for me if they can’t select me in the draft,” Sonnett nods, “he makes it sound like it’s a lock.” 

“Well,” Allie sips her beer, “they wouldn’t have you guys training here if they didn’t feel sure it would happen,” 

“I just want it over and announced,” Emily sighs, “everyone keeps asking me, but I can’t say anything official until the draft,” 

“Who do you think they’re gonna get as a backup goalie?” Lindsey asks Allie. 

Allie shrugs, “My guess is A.D. Franch,” she says, “with Nadine retiring, we need someone, Michelle should be starting, but I don’t know who they would trade for as a back up,” 

“I just love that Nadine’s staying to coach,” Tobin grins, “she’s so cool, I just love her energy.” 

“She’s insane,” Allie chuckles, “but in the best way possible.” 

“Most goalies are,” Emily nods. 

“I just hate that I have to leave Sunday,” Lindsey laments, “back to PSG for two weeks and then home for Christmas break and then back to end the season.” 

“They can announce you in January, right?” Tobin asks and Lindsey nods. 

“If they go after Franch, they’ll probably want Kling too,” Allie predicts, “I just wonder who’s getting traded.” 

“Yeah, having her to come to work out seemed like a trial,” Lindsey agrees, “I really hope this all works out.” 

“Thorns have some international spots as well,” Allie frowns, “I know they’ve been looking too.” 

“Well,” Tobin says, turning to get the ground beef meat from the fridge, “I’m not gonna get wound up about what they may or may not be doing,” she says as she opens the package, “I’ll just keep training and wait to report, whatever team that may be.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re a lock,” Allie snorts, “they’ll never get rid of you,” 

“Nobody is a lock,” Lindsey declares, “this league is still too young, I heard rumors they were expanding, adding a team in Orlando.” 

“Orlando?” Tobin repeats, her eyes growing wide. 

Lindsey nods gravely. They all know that would draw Alex’s attention if it were true. She would jump at the chance to play in the same town with Servando. 

“I guess we’ll just see,” Allie says quietly, the group growing pensive. 

“Here,” Lindsey says, elbowing Tobin away from the pan she’s standing in front of, “the sight of you cooking makes me twitch,” she grins, reaching for the package of meat and getting to work. Lindsey and Tobin played together over in France and both are excited of the chance to play together again. 

Lindsey’s gotten some call ups to the National Team and has been persuaded to come back to the states to further her chances on the national stage. 

Tobin takes a long pull from her beer, setting it down and then looking around at all of them, “You can only control what you can control,” she says quietly. 

“Well, someone control Horan so she doesn’t burn the beef!” Emily declares and Allie elbows her way over to take the spatula from Lindsey, “Kids,” she mutters, grinning as she stirs the beef while drinking her beer. 

 

“How many fish did you catch?” Allie asks before taking another bite of her taco. They're watching the show. 

Tobin finishes chewing before she speaks, “There were about thirty in the net,” she says, “I let half out, it would have been too much to work with and I didn’t have anywhere to keep them safe.”

“Christen is tough as nails,” Emily comments, “going through that? Shit, I couldn’t have.” 

“That scared the shit out of me,” Tobin admits, “she didn’t tell me that happened at first.” Tobin is referring to Christen falling into a river when the river suddenly flooded and sent her into the icy water. “She just said she had gotten wet,” 

This episode was leading up to when Christen finally makes it to Tobin. Bo Jackson was gone and it was looking like Brett Favre would be gone in next week’s show. Ted Nugent and Arvil Lavigne were holding their own with their partners, both had decent shelters and were finding food. Avril seemed like she was getting along with her pro, but the same couldn’t be said for Ted Nugent. The two men would bicker over every task and how to do it best. 

The episode ends with Tobin making the path to her shelter and Christen deciding to push all the way through and find her partner. 

“They make it so dramatic,” Allie mumbles, shaking her head slightly, “I guess they have to do it that way for ratings.” 

“That’s television for you,” Tobin shrugs, picking up her plate and standing up to head to the kitchen. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“She’s really cool,” Channing says as she brings another handful of popcorn to her mouth as they watch the episode. 

Christen smiles widely next to her, nodding as she reaches for the popcorn, “She was really smart in finding that location,” she says, “I’m not sure I would have kept searching after seeing the first place,” 

“Jesus, you had to bust your ass,” Channing exclaims, “that looked terrible to have to walk through,” 

Christen grimaces, “I’ll admit,” she says, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth and chewing it, “I was a little overwhelmed with how heavy that bush was,” 

The episode switches over to Ted Nugent and Channing wrinkles her nose, “He’s so abrasive,” she snorts, “I hope he leaves soon,” 

“I don’t know,” Christen says, “they seem to have a good setup,” 

“Not as good as Tobin’s,” Channing remarks, “I can’t wait for you to get there,” she says, “I want to see how you two are together,” she teases, elbowing her. 

“Shut up,” Christen chuckles, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

“You really like her,” Channing accuses her, studying the happy look on Christen’s face, “like, do you,” she leans forward, looking at her even more intently, “Chrissy, do you love her?” 

Christen freezes, her hand up near her face holding another piece of popcorn, “I,” she says, “I think I do,” she says slowly. “I mean,” she shrugs, “she is amazing,” 

Channing just nods at her, still looking at her with an intensity Christen hasn’t seen in a long time. 

“Isn’t it too soon?” Christen asks her, letting her hand fall, “I mean, we’ve only known each other for like, four weeks.” 

Channing shrugs with a smug smile on her face, “What about love at first sight?”

Christen tosses the piece of popcorn in her hand at her, “Chan,” she groans, “that’s not a thing,” she dismisses. Then she sighs, scrunching up her mouth, “I could love her,” she says quietly, “I mean, I could see it happening.” 

Channing settles back on the couch, a satisfied grin on her face. “I totally can see it and I’ve only seen you two together once,” she says sagely, “not including this show, of course.” 

“Of course,” Christen nods, thinking she’s crazy for just admitting that to her sister. I could love her, she thinks, I think actually love her now. But it’s way too soon for talk like that, she shakes her head a little. But I like thinking about her being mine, she grins slightly, I really like it. 

“What about her being like, a celebrity? Is she out? Like, publicly?” Channing asks, curious. She doesn’t follow women’s soccer closely, just knowing the basics. 

“She’s not out publicly and likes to keep things low key in public,” Christen replies, “she’s never made a public statement, she likes her privacy.” 

Channing nods, “And you’re okay with that?” 

“Yeah,” Christen nods, “I am. I mean, I don’t flaunt my preferences either, I’m not one to hang a flag or anything nor am I prone to major public displays of affection, so it’s fine with me.” 

“Well,” Channing pauses, “what about hugging and stuff? Or little kisses?” 

“Come on, Chan,” Christen shakes her head, “really? We hold hands and stuff, we kiss, we’re just not over the top.” 

“Just curious,” Channing holds up her hands in surrender, “I’ve just seen how many new followers you have on IG with the show and am just wondering what you’ll do if you get approached by people. I’m sure Tobin has some weirdos that follow her, I just want to know what you’ll do when they put two and two together.” 

“Just follow Tobin’s lead,” she replies confidently, “it’s none of their business.” 

“Okay,” Channing nods, “good. You certainly don’t need any more Monica types in your life.” 

Christen rolls her eyes, “Ain’t that the truth,” she sighs. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Okay,” Allie says, turning from the fridge where she’s just put away a container of sour cream, “we need to talk.” The others have left, it’s just the two of them. 

Tobin raises her eyebrows at her from her place at the stove, she’s wiping down the stovetop from the grease of the beef. “We do?” 

“Yes,” Allie nods, “what is the status of you and Christen?” 

“We’re dating,” Tobin replies easily, “and not dating anyone else.” 

“Exclusive,” Allie nods, “good.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin looks at her suspiciously, “what?” 

“You love her.” Allie states, nodding as she crosses her arms, trying to look wise. 

“I might,” Tobin admits, “she’s pretty terrific.” 

“You might?” Allie raises her eyebrows at her. She had been fishing with her comment and didn’t expect Tobin to answer her like that. 

“Yeah, Har,” Tobin says, running the faucet and rinsing her washcloth, then wringing it out and spreading it out on the sink divider. “I’m pretty sure it’s way too early to be talking to her about love,” she explains, “but I feel it.” 

Tobin looks and sees how Allie’s eyes are now bulging out of her sockets. She shakes her head, “Come on, Al,” she says softly, “I’m feeling things for Chris that I’ve never felt with Shirley,” she says, leaning back against the counter, “I know it’s pretty early and quick but,” she says, “she just,” she shrugs, “has this thing about her,” she shakes her head and smiles, “I don’t want to be apart from her.” 

Allie’s face has settled down, she’s now looking at her thoughtfully, “I’m really happy for you,” she says genuinely, “really.” 

Tobin nods, “I just want to take it slow, you know?” she says, opening the fridge and pulling out the chocolate milk, “with this Monica stuff going on, I don’t think now isn’t the time to talk about love,” 

Allie sets two glasses on the counter and Tobin pours them each a glass. She sets the milk back in the fridge, nodding towards the living room. Allie leads the way to the couch, sitting down in the corner, Tobin taking the other one, sprawling sideways, one leg bent on the middle cushion and the other hanging off. 

Tobin is feeling pretty secure with her feelings right now and very comfortable talking to Allie about this. “It’s just like you said,” she says, taking a sip of her milk, “it’s exciting, exhilarating and terrifying,”

Allie smiles, nodding at her, “It only gets better,” she says, extending her glass out, “cheers.” 

The two clink glasses and Allie listens to Tobin open up and tell her about Christen and how they spoke about her learning disability in more detail and how cool she was about it. 

Without being graphic, she even tells her about the sex, about how Tobin feels the affection from Christen while they’ve together. As if she’s trying to speak to her with her body.   
The two talk for a long time, about love, about relationships and the sacrifices that go with them. It’s after one when Allie leaves, hugging Tobin for a long time at the door, feeling like she would burst for happiness for her friend. 

“Text me when you get home,” Tobin says, “it’s late.” 

“I will,” Allie says as she gathers her purse. “I love ya, Har,” she smiles at her. 

“Love you, too,” Tobin smiles, her eyes filled with joy. She watches Allie walk down the hallway to the elevator, giving her way before she enters it and disappears. She shuts her door and locks it, going back to the kitchen and pulling a notepad from the side drawer and a pen. She writes her list out of what she wants to do tomorrow before Alex comes back. 

The kitchen is fine, she thinks, she’s just cleaned it with Allie. The living room needs to be dusted, she should wipe the wood floors down and vacuum the rug. She wants to wash the throw blanket that’s on the back of the couch, she doesn’t know the last time it’s been washed. She adds that task to her list. Vacuum the front rug, do the hallway floor. Just do all of the floors. Check on the laundry, make sure hers is done so Alex can get started if she wants. Clean both bathrooms. Wash her sheets. 

Her and Alex usually split chores while they’re both here, but it’s been a sort of unwritten thing between them that if one person has been gone for a while and the other hanging out here, they should have the place presentable when the other gets home. It’s just a considerate thing to do and they both willingly do it for each other. 

She finishes her list and heads to her bedroom, ready to get to bed. After brushing her teeth and taking out her contacts, she slides under the covers, clicking the light off. A sense of peace settles over her, she’s truly happy right now. 

She’s pretty much out of rehab and into light conditioning. There’s still time for her to really get her work in that she wants during the off season. She wants to bulk up a little more, she doesn’t want to be so easily tossed off the ball. She wants to hit the gym hard before the season starts, to be as strong as she possibly can be. 

Things with Christen are going really well, she likes how their relationship is moving forward. Meeting Channing had only been stressful right up until they introduced themselves to each other and then all the anxiety fell away and the night was so enjoyable. 

The thought of Alex going to Orlando doesn’t trouble her horribly. She knows Alex would want to be Servando, she’d be silly not to take the chance to have it happen. She’ll miss the everyday banter and hanging out and she’ll be sad for her to leave but takes comfort in the strength of their friendship and knows it will not suffer. It’s like her and Cheney and A-Rod, they can just pick up like they saw each other yesterday and everything is comfortable. She knows she’ll have that with Alex. 

Tomorrow night is going to be great, Tobin likes Channing and is glad she’ll be joining them, she’s like a more relaxed Christen, a bit carefree and not as cautious. She’s also so eager to meet Christen’s other friends. Jen sounds like she’s a big sister to her, Nima sounds like a big brother, she wonders if he knows Kelley as well. Her friend Ali, another professor, sounds super cool and she mentioned a Melissa but she doesn’t remember how she knows her. 

She sighs happily, glad she can sleep in tomorrow and have time to do her chores and take a day off from training. She’ll do a light workout on Sunday, maybe just a run, nothing major. Alex probably won’t want to go with her. Does Christen run, she wonders as her eyes close, the smile still on her face. It would be cool to run with her, she thinks as she drifts off to sleep. 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are blowing me away with the comments. Seriously, like, thank you so much. You are too kind. 
> 
> Things will start moving in the next chapter, Alex will be back from her travels. Stuff will happen. Thanks so much for sticking around.


	22. Friends Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Alex catch up while Alex waits for her flight back to Portland, discussing Christen and Servando. Then Tobin joins Christen and Channing for dinner and heads to the bar to meet Christen’s friends. It’s an interesting evening with some unexpected surprises.

.

 

December 5, 2015 

Day 36 

 

“I really can’t wait for you to meet her Al,” Tobin says as she is holding her phone with one hand and pushing the Swiffer across the hallway floor with the other. 

“I can’t wait either,” Alex replies, “she sounds _pretty_ special,” she says, Tobin can hear her smile through the phone. 

“She is,” she says, “I’m going to her place tonight and having dinner with her and her sister and then we’re meeting up with her friends at a bar to hang out.” 

“That’s two meals with her sister, right?” Alex asks, yawning, she’s tired and stuck in the airport at JFK, waiting for her connecting flight home. “How did the first one go?” 

“It was great,” Tobin smiles, “her sister is super cool, so much like Christen, yet so different, you know? Kind of like you and Jen,” she mentions Alex’s sister. 

“Where did you eat?” 

“Ah, the Portland City Grill,” Tobin answers, “what a fantastic place!” 

“Tobin, that’s a really fancy place,” Alex says, “what did you wear?” 

“I wore that burgundy dress with black booties,” Tobin replies, knowing Alex would know the dress. 

“Nice,” she murmurs, “did you leave your hair down?” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin says, walking over to the hall closet and putting the Swiffer away, her last chore completed, “I just put some loose curls in it,” Now with both hands free, Tobin opens her photo app and finds the picture Channing insisted she take of her and Christen at the restaurant. She sends it Alex. 

“I’m sure you looked great,” Alex replies, “what’s this?” her notification just popped up. 

“A pic from that night,” Tobin grins, curious to Alex’s reaction. 

“Holy shit,” she utters, “Tobin, she’s a knockout!” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin grins. 

“You look amazing,” she says slowly, “honestly, you look absolutely gorgeous in that dress.” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says.

“I bet Christen had a hard time keeping her ands off of you,” Alex continues, “she’s really pretty,” she says, “her eyes, woah.” 

“Aren’t they, like, exotic?” Tobin says, opening the photo again to enlarge it and stare at Christen’s face. 

“They sure are,” Alex says, “I’m really happy for you,” she says, her sincerity coming through loud and clear, “you deserve the best,” she says, “and from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you found it with Christen.” 

“Aw, thanks, Al,” Tobin says, “it means a lot coming from you,” she says. “Al, uh,” she says, suddenly nervous.

“What?” 

“I think I love her,” Tobin says quietly. 

“Yeah?” Alex asks just as quietly.

“Yeah,” Tobin breathes out, “I just haven’t told her yet,” 

“Too soon?” Alex asks curiously.

“Well, kinda,” Tobin hedges, “and that bullshit with her ex, and her sister being here,” Tobin rambles, “I just want it to be the right time, you know.” 

“I do,” Alex says, a little distracted, “Tobin, you’re absolutely glowing in this picture,” she says, “you look so incredibly happy.” 

“I am,” Tobin says, “I really am,” she sighs happily. 

“Tobin,” Alex says, a tone and hesitation in her voice that Tobin waits for, knowing she’s about to say something serious, “I’m so glad you let yourself meet someone after everything with Shirley,” 

“So am I,” Tobin replies truthfully, “it just sort of happened. I’m so grateful you were such a rock for me during all of that, you were so good to me.” 

There’s a pause as they both reflect on their relationship. 

“So, hey,” Tobin says after a minute, “how is Servando? Did he like London?” He went with her on the trip, it was his first time overseas. 

“He loved it,” Alex replies excitedly. “Tobin, I wanted to tell you this face to face but I just can’t wait.” 

“What is it?” Tobin wants to know. 

“We had the talk,” Alex replies hurriedly, “we went ring shopping.” 

“That’s awesome!” Tobin exclaims, knowing that Servando had planned to make the next move on the trip. He had actually called her in early September and talked to her about it, asking her opinion on things and if she knew of any good jewelers to take Alex to in London. He was dancing around the subject for a while as they chatted but then just came out and asked Tobin if she thought Alex would say yes. It was his way of asking Tobin for her approval. 

They had become good buddies and it was important to him. Tobin was touched and impressed and all for it. He was a good guy for Alex. He understood her, maybe not her exact words all the time, but he understood what she meant and that was maybe more important. They had been together since college, understanding the pressures of being a student athlete. He was her biggest cheerleader, always there to listen to her after a match or to discuss endorsement deals and help plan her future. Being an athlete as well, he understood long distance relationships and was serious about making it work with Alex. 

“You knew,” Alex states with conviction. 

“He might have said something,” Tobin admits, knowing there’s no reason to lie. 

“He asked you ahead of time?” Alex wants to know. 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies, “did he take you to Tiffany’s?” 

“Yes, and I know that was your idea,” Alex answers, “and it was exactly like you described it.” 

When Tobin played in France, she took the train on the free day and went to London, determined to buy herself something to remember her time there. She found herself looking at rings in the Tiffany store and chose the gold band that’s currently around her middle finger. She spins it around her finger. 

“I’m glad,” Tobin replies quietly, “he’s a good man, Al,” she says, “you guys make a great couple.” 

“Thanks,” Alex replies quietly, “I love him.” 

“He’s a lucky man,” Tobin replies, truly happy for her, “and he loves you so much, it’s crazy.” 

“Will I see you tonight?” Alex asks, “I get in around nine-thirty, I’ll be home around ten.” 

“Nah, I’m staying with Chris tonight,” Tobin replies, “let you get your jetlagged beauty rest without me bugging you. I made you some mac and cheese, it’s in the fridge.” 

“Aw, thanks,” Alex murmurs, “We’re still on for brunch, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies, “and Allie is coming too,” 

“Oh, good!” Alex replies, “I can’t wait to get back,” she yawns, “ooh, I think they’re calling for boarding,” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tobin says, “but text me tonight when you get home okay?” 

“Will do,” Alex says, “I’ll talk to ya later.” 

They end the call, Tobin feeling happy for Alex. She’s glad everything seems to be coming into place for her. Especially if the Orlando rumors are true. She looks at her watch and nods seeing she has enough time for a nap before she needs to get ready to go to Christen’s house. She heads for her bedroom. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Then Chrissy decides she’s going to test Pavlov’s theory on our Dad!” Channing erupts, “Every day, for three weeks, she hides the video camera and presses the ringtone on her phone,” she continues, laughing, “it was this stupid outer space ringtone. She’d make sure Dad was there and hears it, then offered him a mint, filming the whole thing.” 

“I’ll have you know that by the end of those three weeks, he craved a mint when I sounded the tone,” Christen states factually, a sly grin on her face. “Plus, when I saw it on The Office, I just knew I had to do it,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Well, did you get an A?” Tobin questions, not really understanding the hilarity they are exhibiting. Sure, it’s funny, but they’re way too giggly about it. 

“I sure did,” Christen nods with a superior expression on her face. “I was the only one that had a video presentation of my experiment to go along with my paper.” 

“Tobin,” Channing reaches out and puts her hand on her forearm, “that isn’t the best part,” she says, glancing over at Christen who is giggling now. 

Tobin looks at her and can’t help but smile, she looks and sounds so adorable. “Well?” she questions, looking between the two of them. 

“She continued the experiment on and off for years!” Channing laughs. “Like, two years later, at Thanksgiving, she still has that stupid phone and does it with the whole family there,” she shakes her head, “Dad was making this awful face, asking everyone for a mint.” 

Tobin starts to laugh, “He didn’t know you were doing it?” she asks Christen. 

She shakes her head, “He had no clue,” she giggles, “I begged my Mom not to trade in the phone so I could keep the ringtone, I had to tell her why and she thought it was the most hilarious thing ever.” 

Tobin starts laughing, “That’s insane!” Now she gets why they were laughing so hard. Her mouth has dropped open, thinking about their poor dad. “Did you ever tell him?” 

Christen nods but can’t answer because she’s laughing so hard. She holds up a finger as she calms herself down, “I told him at Christmas,” she says, the laughter threatening to take over once again.

“Tell her which Christmas, Chrissy,” Channing chuckles, taking a drink of her wine, nodding at Tobin. 

“My first Christmas home from college,” Christen shrugs. 

“You did it for that long?” Tobin asks, her eyes wide, mouth open in amazement, “Like, six years?” 

Christen nods, “On and off,” she giggles, reaching for her glass and taking a drink. 

“Oh man,” Tobin shakes her head and looks over at Channing, “So, do I need to be aware of something like this? Is that what you’re saying? Does she do stuff like this to everyone?” 

“I don’t know Chrissy, do you?” Channing narrows her eyes on her sister. 

“Yeah, _Chrissy_ ,” Tobin adds, looking at her suspiciously, “do you make a habit of this type of thing?” 

Christen lowers her head, looking up at Tobin and batting her eyelashes at her, “I’d never do anything like that to you, honey,” she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Tobin taps her chin with two fingers, lifting her glass up but just holding it as she thinks, “Hmm,” she murmurs, a smile coming to her face, “has anything seemed different when  
I’ve been with you,” she contemplates, tapping on her chin, her smile growing larger. 

Christen reaches over and takes her hand, “I wouldn’t do that to you, babe,” she says, giving her hand a squeeze. “I just reserve it for family members,” she says and cast knowing look at Channing. 

“You better have not!” Channing laughingly threatens, “I’ll get you back so bad,” 

Christen laughs, “I haven’t silly,” she giggles, “besides, how could I top that? A six year on going joke slash experiment?” 

“Oh Tobin,” Channing says excitedly, “so, it’s Christmas, and she hands Dad this nicely decorated box,” she says, “he opens it and it’s a CD-ROM.” 

“Was it?” Tobin looks at Christen who is stifling her laughter, nodding at her, “Yes,” she nods, “a twenty minute video of every time I did it.” 

“Over six years,” Tobin shakes her head, “I’m impressed,” she says, “that takes a lot of determination.” 

“And set up.” Christen nods, taking another drink, she looks at her watch, “We should get ready,” she says, standing up, “we’ve sat here talking for almost two hours.” 

Tobin smiles broadly, standing and picking up her plate, “It’s been fun,” she says, “you two are hilarious,” 

“Just wait until you meet Tyler,” Christen winks at her, turning in her heel and walking to the kitchen. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Jen,” Tobin says shaking the hand of a tall, thin woman with short jet black hair. 

“You too,” she smiles, turning, “Tobin, this is my husband Sam,” she says, the man stepping forward, extending a hand, “Good to meet you,” he nods with a smile. Tobin guesses the couple is about her parent’s age, both fit and dressed sharp. 

“You too,” Tobin grins, “I’ve heard such nice things about you both,” 

“Congratulations on the World Cup,” Sam grins, “that was incredible!” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says, her head dipping down, “it was truly amazing.” 

“So, Olympics next?” Sam asks brightly, looking expectantly at her. 

Tobin nods, “Gotta make the roster first,” she says, “but that’s the plan.” 

Christen places her hand on Tobin’s forearm, leaning close to her, “Honey, I’d like you to meet Ali, she’s here doing a lecture series,” she explains, “we met in grad school.” 

“Hi, Ali,” Tobin shakes her hand, tilting her head, she looks vaguely familiar to her, “nice to meet you.” 

“Hi Tobin,” Ali replies, “very nice to meet you.” 

“Have we met before?” Tobin asks, taking a sip of her beer, “You look incredibly familiar to me,” 

“We have,” Ali gives her a wide smile, her eyes dancing, “the U-20 camp in Nashville,” 

Tobin’s mouth drops open slightly as the memory comes back, “Right back,” she says softly, “how are you?” 

“Terrific!” she exclaims, “I hurt my knee after that camp,” she explains, “but I rehabbed and then played in Germany for a couple of years. When I came back, I got my Masters and I teach and do lecture series on sports performance,” 

“That’s rad,” Tobin smiles, happy that she seems content with her life, “do you live around here?” 

Ali shakes her head, “I live near Orlando,” she states, “I teach at University of Central Florida. When I’m traveling during school, I video in lectures and provide online content to my classes,” she explains. 

“That’s cool,” Tobin nods, “so, how do you know each other?” 

“I needed a little tutoring during my Masters,” Ali smiles, “and I was referred to the best.” 

“Oh,” Tobin nods, still not sure of the connection, but she’ll ask Christen later. 

“How’s it going Ali?” Channing asks, sliding onto the barstool next to her. The two begin to chatter and catch up.

“So, you have to tell us,” Sam says, looking at Tobin and Christen, “did you two win the show?” 

The two women share a glance and both shrug at the same time. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Tobin says, “I don’t think so,” 

“We tapped out on the twenty-second day.” Christen explains. 

“What?” Ali interjects, frowning, “You said being with Tobin was a dream, everything was great.” 

Tobin sends a humorous look to Christen, chuckling when she sees Christen’s cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. She decides to save her, “My appendix had other plans,” she says, “I’m pretty sure I begged Chris to call, they came and got us and flew us to a hospital where I had surgery.” 

“Oh, that’s awful!” Ali exclaims, bringing a hand to her chest, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, glancing around the table, “feeling good, back training to get ready for the season.” 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” a voice declares from behind Tobin, who turns to look at the source. “Tanc?” 

“Tobin?” The woman asks, looking at her confused. 

“What are you doing here?” They ask each other, Tobin standing from her bar stool to give her a hug. 

“I’m meeting up with my friends,” Melissa Tancredi explains, looking at Christen, “and meeting this one’s new girlfriend.” 

Tobin nods and smiles, pointing a thumb at her chest, “I’m the girlfriend.” 

Melissa takes a look at Tobin and then at Christen, a smirk playing at her lips, “Oh Christen,” she says dramatically, “I cannot let you mix with such a scruffy character,” she says, putting an arm around Tobin, “she’s such a brat on the soccer pitch, I simply cannot imagine what she is like on a personal level,” she shakes her head as she smiles, “nope, you’ll have to break up with her.” 

“Hey, I have scars from you being a brat on the pitch!” Tobin laughs, “It’s so good to see you!” She slings her arm around her shoulder. 

Melissa looks between the two, “How on Earth did the two of you meet?” 

“Do you remember that TV show thing I was doing?” Christen asks, Melissa nods, “Tobin was my partner on the show.” 

“Since when do you do survival camping?” Melissa asks Tobin, still confused. 

“Do you even talk to Sinc?” Tobin laughs, “We go camping all the time,” 

“I didn’t know you did that type of camping,” Melissa says, “I thought you guys went to the woods to drink,” 

“Speaking of drink,” Tobin says, looking around the table, “let me get this round, who needs one?” 

She takes their orders and heads to the bar, thrilled that everything is going so well. She feels a tap on her shoulder, two women smiling at her, asking if they can get a photo with her. Tobin obliges, smiling with them and chatting for a minute while the bartender is preparing her drink order. She gives them each a high five as they happily head off and she turns back to the bar. 

She’s unaware her table has witnessed the whole exchange. 

“That has to be weird,” Jen says, frowning. 

“She handles it with such grace,” Melissa says, “I hated when that happened to me.” 

“She said she only feels weird they’re drunk and stuff,” Christen comments, “she said she likes that most people leave her alone.” Christen adds, “I’m gonna give her a hand carrying the drinks back,” she slides from her seat. 

 

While she waits for the bartender to prepare their drinks, Tobin feels a hand on her low back, turning to see Christen smiling at her. 

“Hi,” she grins at her, “how you doing?” 

“I’m good, Chris,” she smiles, “it’s such a small world, huh?” 

“It is,” she nods.

“So,” Tobin arches an eyebrow at her, “you knew? This was your Kelley payback?” 

Christen grins and nods but is silent. 

“You’re something else,” Tobin chuckles, handing cash to the bartender, then she leans close to her, puckering her lips. Christen steps close and kisses her softly, her hand rubbing her back, slowly up and down. 

“Will you help?” She asks, holding a bottle up.

“Of course,” Christen grins, “that’s why I came here.” 

The two get the drinks together and bring them back to the table. The table is up close to the entrance of the bar, which is nice because it’s not as loud like it is deeper into the bar. They don’t have to shout over the noise to hear each other. The entrance has a closed foyer so the cold air from outside is contained, then the doors open up to the hostess stand and coat check on the right, the bathrooms and entrance to the restaurant on the left. They have the third table on the right, the left hand side is a half wall with large windows and televisions hanging. 

The two make their way back to the table, sorting out the drinks and sitting down. It’s a large, high round table, Christen on the outside with her back to the windows, then Tobin, Channing, Ali, Jen, Sam and then Melissa. Two chairs are open between Christen and Channing, saved for Nima and his wife Nancy. They’re coming later, having a family birthday party to attend. Nancy is from Portland and they visit here often from Seattle. 

The group has a nice time, talking mostly about Tobin and Christen’s experience in the woods. 

“So, how much longer do you think you could have lasted?” Sam asks, “You know, if it wasn’t for your appendix.” 

“At least another month,” Christen replies as Tobin nods.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Tobin adds, “we had smoked fish for about, what,” she glances at Christen, “three weeks?” Christen nods. 

“Also,” Tobin leans in, catching everyone’s eyes, “Christen here is quite the snare trapper,” she says, “very skilled,” 

“What were you trapping?” Melissa asks a slight look of dismay on her face. She’s not into finding your own food. Or camping. She likes glamping. Like, at a hotel. 

“Rabbit, mostly,” she replies, “we had only started for a week or so,” 

“Will you get to keep your own footage?” Sam asks, he’s interested in how the show worked. 

“Yes, we’ll get a copy but we can’t use it on social media without their consent beforehand.” Tobin speaks up, “It’ll be kinda cool to have as a memory,” she looks over at Christen and smiles. Christen smiles back, the two of them just looking at each other with these cute smiles on their faces. 

Tobin gets elbowed by Channing, “Earth to Tobin!” she calls out, chuckling. 

“Aw, leave them alone,” Jen says, “young love is so adorable,” she says dreamily. Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Hey guys!” a male voice greets, all eyes turning to see a tall dark haired man with a petite Asian woman. 

“Nima!” Christen cries out, leaving her chair and hugging him tightly, “I’m so happy to see you!” 

“Same here, Chrissy,” he laughs, patting the top of her head. 

“Stop that,” Christen swats at his hand. “Hi Nancy,” she moves to hug her, “is he being a pain today?” 

The woman lets out a melodic laugh, “Today?” she chuckles, “You mean this decade?” she slides her hand around his waist, “I’m kidding sweetheart,” she says, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

Nima just nods, finding Sam, “The abuse we take, huh?” he laughs. Again, Sam rolls his eyes and lifts his beer to toast Nima. 

Nima turns to the side, “You must be Tobin,” he smiles, “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s nice to finally meet.” He extends a hand. 

“You too,” Tobin says, sliding off her bar stool and shaking his hand. She turns to Nancy, “Hi, I’m Tobin,” 

“So nice to meet you,” she replies, leaning in to close to her, “don’t believe any stories Nima tells you about Christen tonight,” she says conspiratorially, “he just wants to embarrass her,” 

Tobin gives her a wink and nod, “Gotcha,” she smiles.

“Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Nima demands, narrowing his eyes on the two of them. 

“Nothing sweetheart,” Nancy replies in a sing song voice. 

Nima turns to Christen, “Those two are trouble,” he tells them with a grin, “I just know it.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want another beer?” Sam asks Tobin, looking expectantly at her. 

“I’m good, thanks,” she replies, “a water will be great.” 

“Got it,” he says, leaving the table to get the next round. The last three hours have flown by, the group meshing together nicely, no awkward lulls in conversation, lots of laughter. Channing amuses them with a few hilarious stories of her visiting Christen at Stanford and partying with Nima and how Kelley got them so trashed they got lost finding their way back to Christen’s apartment. 

“I mean, it was two hours,” Channing laments, “before Uber,” she shakes her head, “we walked forever.” 

“I think we’ve all had some nights like that,” Jen grins, elbowing Sam, “remember when that party got busted and we stole a bunch of booze and just walked into the neighbors house and sat in their living room drinking?” 

The group laughs, “Were they home?” Ali asks. 

Sam shakes his head, “No,” he grins, “they weren’t too pleased when they came in,” he says, “but they perked up after we offered them the booze.” 

“And had a pizza delivered,” Jen adds. 

“What about you Tobin?” Channing asks, “Any wild stories from your youth you wish to share?”

Tobin sucks in air between her gritted teeth, shaking her head and then smiling at them, “Well,” she says, “there was this one time in Brazil,” she begins to tell the story of how her and a small group of other teenagers from the youth national team decided to take a path up a mountain in the small town they were and their encounter with a pack of bull and the threat of pumas and snakes and other dangerous animals they imagined were in the jungle. 

“So, we’re like, trying to be quiet while these ferocious bulls pass us, I don’t know who decided that actually going into the jungle was the best thing to do,” she takes a sip of her water, “as soon as they passed, we hightailed it down that path, back to town and vowed to never speak of it.” 

“That’s insane!” Christen exclaims, “You could have been killed!” 

Tobin shrugs, “I was like, sixteen,” she says, “you don’t think about stuff.” 

“Tobin, why don’t you tell the story about the dance off during the rain delay?” she smiles at her. 

Tobin smiles, and chuckles, “Tanc,” she says, nudging her shoulder, “you really want me to tell them about how terrible of a dancer you are?” 

Tobin and Melissa tell the story together of how there was a significant rain delay during a friendly of the USA versus Canada. The two teams sat around waited, getting bored, then Canada invaded the USA’s locker room, demanding a dance off so someone would win something that night. The contest was ruled a draw because each team kept sabotaging the other.

That story leads to Ali telling a story of her and a friend got busted by the cops at a makeout spot in Germany and they thought the cop was going to die when he discovered it was two girls in the car. How her poor German nearly had them in handcuffs and her friend was freaking out. 

Tobin’s ears perk up with that story, remembering hearing that story, suddenly remembering it was Ashlyn who told it to her. Her eyes widen a little realizing that Ali had dated Ashlyn while they both were playing in Germany. She uses her best poker face to not give away her sudden realization, not wanting to make Ali curious or worse, embarrassed by forcing Tobin to share that she knows. She does know that it didn’t end that great between them and Ashlyn deeply regretted it. It wasn’t too long ago in the spring when Ashlyn came out to visit, that a late night, half drunk conversation led to Ashlyn admitting she was wrong in letting Ali go and confessing she was the one who got away. 

Tobin feels Christen’s eyes on her, turning to see her looking at her. Tobin gives her a smile and drinks her water, patting Christen’s hand, thinking what an interesting turn of events and once again, just how small the world really is. 

Tanc had bought a round and Tobin went to use the restroom and then helped her bring the drinks back to the table. They’re talking about the athletics at the college, Tobin, sipping on her water and admitting she’s never been to a basketball game there. Sam is excitedly telling them about the men’s team while Jen keeps interjecting the wonderful things about the women’s team. 

“I’ll be right back,” Christen says, excusing herself to head to the restroom. Channing joins her and leaves the table. 

“You should totally come and catch a game,” Sam suggests, “I can get you tickets, no problem.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “sounds pretty cool, I’ll check the schedule.” 

Tobin feels a tap on her left shoulder, turning with a smile, thinking it’s Christen returning from the bathroom. She sees a dark haired woman looking at her intently. 

“Tobin?” she questions, her eyes questioning her. 

“Yeah?” Tobin replies, wondering who this stranger is. 

The woman flicks her right arm and Tobin doesn’t see the beer bottle coming at her head until the very last moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave ya hanging.


	23. The Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the bar.

.

 

December 5, 2015 

Day 36, Night 

 

“She fits right in,” Channing says as she washes her hands, Christen standing next to her, checking her hair. 

Christen smiles, “She does, doesn’t she,” she says, looking at Channing in the mirror.

“She’s so laid back,” Channing continues, “I mean, you said she gets nervous, but you’d never be able to tell.” Christen nods, handing Channing a few paper towels, “And she’s so down to Earth, like, she’s doesn’t come across as being entitled or anything just because she’s an athlete,” Channing continues, “she’s humble, too,” she tosses the paper towels into the trash can. “You’ve got yourself a good one,” she grins at her. 

Christen smiles back, “Yeah,” she sighs happily as she turns to exit the bathroom. Channing follows as they pass the coat check and hostess desk, turning to enter the bar, their table only steps away. Christen stops in her tracks, Channing bumping into her back. 

“What the-” Channing stops when she sees what’s happening. 

Christen’s mouth drops open, her eyes taking it in. Tobin is on her knees, holding a hand to the side of her head, blood pouring through her fingers, darkening the cuff of her sweater and dripping onto her shoulder. She looks dazed, swaying on her knees. She sees Melissa is on the floor, scrambling to get up, Sam and Nima moving to get out from behind the table. The floor is wet, Tobin looks drenched, there’s bottles on the floor and knocked down on the table top. 

Then she sees the figure standing over Tobin in a threatening manner. It’s a woman, she’s holding something in one handing, waving it around, yelling at Tobin. A sense of dread fills Christen, her stomach drops as she recognizes her, she begins to tremble. She steps forward. 

“Monica!” Christen shouts, making the woman turn to see her. 

“You!” Monica screams, her face twisted with fury. She lunges towards Tobin, grabbing her by the back of her hair and pulling her a few steps away from the table, Tobin stumbling on her knees, a hand still to her head. 

Monica stands behind Tobin, one hand pulling the hair on the back of Tobin’s head, forcing her head up, the other hand holding what Christen now realizes is a broken beer bottle pressing the jagged edge to her neck. 

“If I can’t have you,” Monica screams, “neither can she!” 

“No!” Christen screams, taking a step forward, “Monica, stop!” She looks at the scene before her, how Monica is looking at her with such fury. “Wait!” 

Christen sees how terrified Tobin looks, her eyes flicking around, breathing heavy, she has a cut on her cheekbone, the blood trailing down to her neck, one hand still holding the side of her head. She sees how Sam is creeping around the back of the table, trying to get behind Monica. Melissa, now slowly getting to her feet, moving cautiously. Everyone else seems frozen in place with shock. Everything is in slow motion. She watches as Tobin seems to go limp, her shoulders, slumping, not struggling at all. Then her hands shoot out, one locking on Monica’s wrist holding the bottle and pushing it away from her neck, the other clamping onto her arm that’s holding her head. 

Then all Hell breaks loose. 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin feels the bottle hit, an intense pain spreads across the side of her head, her hearing drowned out by a high pitched tone in her head. She falls to her side, her elbow hitting the table hard, her side catching it on her way down, tilting it and sending the drinks towards her. Her chair gets taken out from under her, making her fall quickly to her knees, a cascade of beer and other drinks raining down on her. She’s bent over, her right hand supporting her and her left holding the side of her head. She’s got her eyes clamped shut, she can feel the burn of the beer in her eyes. Everything’s spinning. 

She’s dizzy and lurches to the side, suddenly her hair is being pulled, forcing her upright, moving her away from the table. She follows clumsily on her knees, her hand still applying pressure to the side of her head, she can see blood running down her wrist and being absorbed into the sleeve of her sweater. 

So much for this sweater, she thinks, dang, I really liked it. Shaking her head, still hearing that ringing noise in her head but now more sounds are coming through. It’s sounds like she’s underwater, she can’t make out any words, but the tone sounds angry. 

She’s getting dragged to the aisle, the wall on her right, the table her left. She blurrily sees Melissa slowly getting up, pushing the stool off herself, moving slow, calculated. Her wide eyes are on whoever is holding her, Tobin glances up, she can’t see much, her eyes burn so much. She blinks rapidly. Looking back down. 

Then she looks up and sees Christen about ten feet away in front of her. She looks terrified. She’s so pale, she’s trembling. She looks like she’s going to pass out. Channing is next to her and she doesn’t look that much better. 

Tobin feels something sharp press against her neck. She tries to pull back but the woman’s grip is tight, her fingers in her hair, holding her in place. Oh shit, Tobin realizes, she’s gonna kill me. 

Tobin’s blinking rapidly, breathing heavily, nearly hyperventilating. What can I do, she wonders, I gotta fucking stop this bitch. I’ll make her think I’m weak, Tobin figures, then attack. She goes limp, calculating for the moment she feels them let up just the slightest. She feels it, that second whoever is holding her relaxes just a hair, then Tobin’s shooting her hands out, tightening her fingers around the woman’s wrists, pushing the hand that’s holding the bottle away from her neck. She can’t do much about how the woman is trying to jerk her head, but she’s not letting go until the bottle is out of her hand. 

The woman jerks Tobin’s head down, Tobin grimacing as she sees her bring her knee up to meet her head. Another thump has her seeing stars, but her grip doesn’t loosen. She’s being jostled, someone has landed on her, they’re all on the ground now, Tobin yelling as her hair is pulled then released. She gets a knee in her stomach, making her roll into a ball, feeling her hand get ripped away from the woman, suddenly free. 

Panic rises in her, I gotta get out of here, she chants in her head. Fight or flight is taking over. Getting to her knees and scuttling along the wall, clumsily bouncing into it, holding her head with her left hand. She’s crawling along the side of the wall, she’s stopped by Christen, who looks so terrified, she’s crying and speaking and Tobin still can’t understand her. Her blood is thundering through her head, that nagging high pitched tone ringing in her ears. She’s got to get away, get someplace safe, she’s still moving, dragging Christen with her, crawling along the floor. 

There’s people all around, Tobin glancing and seeing a bunch of them holding their phones up, filming this. She blocks her face as she’s helped up, hands on her sides and under her elbows, walking on wobbly legs, then being sat in a chair. It’s quiet except for Christen who’s crying. She can see the foyer over Christen’s shoulder, she thinks she’s by the coat check. 

Tobin is gently pushed deep into the chair, her head resting on the cushioned backrest. She closes her eyes for a moment, hearing someone speaking, it’s sounds so watery and distorted. She shakes her head slowly, trying to clear her ears, opening her mouth wide and suddenly the noise around her sounds like she’s pressed a volume button on high. Her eyes are still burning, she’s blinking rapidly, her body trembling. 

“Are you okay?” Christen is asking, her voice pleading, her eyes large and filled with tears. 

Channing elbows her way next to Christen, “I’m a nurse,” she declares, looking up at a woman hovering close by, “do you have a first aid kit?” 

“Here,” the woman offers to her a kit, “I’ve already called an ambulance,” she states, “and the police.” 

“Okay, Tobin,” Channing says calmly, “let’s see what’s going on, alright?” Her eyes move to Tobin’s neck and then Channing is taking her wrist and lowering Tobin’s bloody hand from the side of her head. She looks over to the woman, “Can you turn the lights up in here?” 

It only takes a moment for the area to be flooded with light. Channing turns to Christen, “Open these,” she orders, shoving some gauze pads at her. 

Tobin sees Channing looking at her neck, frowning and pressing some gauze against it. Tobin swallows hard, trying to steady her breathing but she’s nearly panting from her panic. 

“S-s-s-sa-safe?” she questions, grimacing that she’s stuttering. 

“You’re safe Tobin,” Channing soothes, “both of you are.” 

Tanc come up behind Christen, “Can I help?” she questions.

Channing glances at Christen who is struggling to open the second gauze pad. “Get Jen in here,” she tilts her head at Christen, “and then give me a hand?” Tanc nods and pivots, moving out of sight. 

“Tobin,” Channing says, catching her eye, “are you dizzy?” 

“Lil-lil-lil,” Tobin huffs, frustrated, swallowing again, nodding and biting her lower lip. 

“Here, Chris,” Tanc says, “sit here,” she shoves a chair next to Tobin, Jen kneeling next to her, giving Christen a hug and speaking quietly to her as she sobs. Tanc starts ripping open the bandages. Tobin focuses on Tanc ripping open the flimsy paper packages, seeing how the knuckles on the back of her right hand look red and swollen. She sees how Tanc flexes the hand, looking up to see her grimace in pain. 

Channing uses her cell phone flashlight to pass the light over Tobin’s eyes, looking intently. “You might be a little concussed,” she murmurs, “she cut your neck but it’s just a little one,” she states. 

“C-c-c-cut?” Tobin panics, gripping the arms of the chair tightly, her breath coming out with these shudders she can’t control. “Gah-gah-gon-gonna d-d-d-didie?” She sees Tanc raise an eyebrow hearing her stutter, frowning and looking over towards Christen. 

“No, no, no, no,” Channing assures her, “it’s just a little cut,” she says calmly, “I don’t even think it will need stitches.”

Tobin nods, closing her eyes for a minute, focusing on her breathing. 

“Tobin, I’m so sorry!” Christen exclaims tearfully, gripping her right arm roughly. Tobin sees how her eyes are wide, tear filled and panicked. 

“Sh-sh-she wah-wah-was g-g-g-gonna k-k-k-kill m-m-m-me!” Tobin forces out, completely freaked out by what is happening. Her head hurts, her eyes are burning, anger suddenly washing through her. She tries to get up, hands press her into the chair. 

“You’re safe,” Channing croons, exchanging the gauze bandages on Tobin’s head, “everyone’s okay,” 

Tobin makes the mistake of looking down and seeing the bright red bloodstains on the gauze. “H-h-h-elp!” she stutters, beginning to panic. She’s starting to hyperventilate, she feels so out of control. 

“You’re okay, Tobin,” Channing says calmly, ripping open more bandages, “you’re gonna be just fine, a few stitches, that’s it,” she uses two fingers under Tobin’s chin so she looks up at her, “I know it looks like a lot of blood, but you’re going to be fine, seriously, you’re okay,” 

Tobin swallows again, nodding, blinking her eyes slowly, now feeling a hot pain in her cheek. “S-s-s-so-so-kay,” she says. Frowning again, so fucking pissed at her stutter, unconsciously going back to what she used to do as a kid when she was stuttering badly, smacking her forehead with an open palm. 

Christen grabs her hand to stop Tobin from hurting herself. “I didn’t know she’d be here,” Christen continues, crying, “I didn’t think she’d do something like this, I’m so sorry.” 

Tobin moves her hand a little, twisting so it was palm side up, nodding at her to take it. Christen holds her hand, sniffling. 

“Tobin, can you just hold this against your head?” Channing asks, taking her left hand and pressing it against her head. “You’re cut there and it’s gonna need a few stitches. You’ve got a pretty goose egg there too, we’ll get you some ice.” 

Tobin nods, the tears coming, she was bewildered who would do this to her, but now realizing it was Monica, she’s terrified. For herself and Christen.

The Police have come, an officer approaching and looking expectantly at Tanc, who steps away and speak with him. Tobin watches as Tanc begins speaking to the officer, gesturing to him, then another male joins them, pointing to the ceiling and the cop follows him out of her view. She sees Ali and Sam peering around the coat check, their faces concerned. Tanc is speaking with them, all turning to look at Tobin who drops her eyes. 

Channing presses another bandage just under Tobin’s eye, high on her cheekbone where the bottle sliced her open. The pain is coming in waves, making Tobin grimace and close her eyes as she tries to battle it out of her mind. Just focus on breathing, slow it down, she repeats in her head. 

“You okay?” Channing asks, “You gonna be sick?” 

Tobin shakes her head, not wanting to try and speak, she’s frustrated that she’s stuttering. She hasn’t had it this bad since college when she broke her leg. She doesn’t remember stuttering when her appendix attack occurred or the nightmare she had with Monica the other night. 

The paramedics arrive, bustling in and edging themselves in the area, Channing standing and speaking with a female medic as they open their packs. Tobin’s hearing her being spoken about in the third person. She just keeps her eyes closed, willing this to be over. She just wants to go home. 

Christen eyes her steadily, knowing Tobin has to be freaked out about being attacked and upset about stuttering. She doesn’t know if Tobin remembers doing that while they were out in the woods during her appendix attack or when she had her nightmare. It has to be frustrating, not being able to speak correctly, Christen thinks. 

Christen is freaked out about Monica doing such a thing. How could she, she wonders, she actually tried to kill Tobin. Tobin. She looks at her, hearing her labored breathing, seeing how her hand is clamped to the arm of the chair, her body rigid with tenseness. She feels how tight Tobin is holding her hand, occasionally tightening her grip as a wave of pain hits her. 

She studies Tobin’s face, the lines across her forehead, the grimace set in her mouth. She’s in pain. She’s still trembling, still shuddering a bit. Christen rubs the back of her hand with her thumb and leans close. 

“The ambulance is here,” she says quietly, “we’ll get you checked out, okay?” 

Tobin rolls her head toward her, opening her eyes. They still hold the panic from earlier. It breaks Christen’s heart to see it. 

“Ca-ca-can w-w-w-we puh-puh-puh-lease g-g-go home?” Tobin pleads, searching her eyes, still so scared. 

“You need to see a doctor,” Christen advises her, “you need some stitches,” she says, “we’ll get you home soon enough, alright?” 

Christen watches as a few tears slip over Tobin’s eyes and run down her cheeks, her lower lip quivering as she nods at her. 

“Hey Chris?” Channing calls her. She looks up to see her with a female medic, “can I talk to you for a second?” 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Christen tells Tobin, who nods and closes her eyes again. She gets up from the chair and takes a few steps to her sister. The medics surround Tobin. 

“Does Tobin stutter all the time or do you think this was from the head injury?” Channing inquires, looking at her. 

Christen shakes her head, “She had a stutter as a kid,” she answers, wiping her eyes again, “she said it sometimes comes back.”

Channing and the medic both nod, the medic writing something down on the aluminum clipboard she’s carrying. 

“Does she have any allergies to medications?” she asks, looking expectantly at Christen. 

“None that I know of,” she replies, hugging herself. 

“Okay, thanks,” she nods and moves to approach Tobin, standing and leaning over as the other begin to work on her. 

Channing hugs Christen as the paramedics evaluate Tobin, then walks her out of the coat check area to join up with their group. 

They huddle around her, speaking quietly. 

“She’s gone,” Nima states, slipping his arm around Christen, “they arrested her and took her away already.” Nima’s tie is askew around her neck, one of the buttons of his dress shirt is missing. 

“I informed them of what happened Wednesday night and the order of protection you have, they were able to pull up the incident report, they know the whole story.” Jen adds. 

Christen looks around and sees how concerned they are, the mix of shock and sympathy on their faces, how kind they’re being to her. “I’m so sorry,” she suddenly bursts, crying once again, the girls instantly swarm her, closing in and creating a hive, offering her words of comfort. 

When Christen calms down, they see the gurney entering in the restaurant and Channing holds her by both arms. “Listen, you need to be strong for Tobin right now,” she says, “she’s scared and needs you.” 

Christen nods, wiping her eyes, “Yeah,” she says, “I’m gonna go with her,” she says, thinking being with her is the right thing to do. Even if Tobin hates her for this happening to her. It is her fault after all. 

“Here’s your coats,” Ali offers, Melissa helping Christen put hers on and offers her purse to her. 

“We’ll take Channing back to your place,” Sam offers, “are you sure you don’t want one of us coming with you?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No, it’s okay,” she says with conviction, gathering her composure and looking at them, “it’s fine.” She doesn’t want to drag anyone else into this and doesn’t think Tobin would be comfortable with more people around. 

“I’ll take care of the dogs,” Channing says as she wipes her hands with a towel, “just text me and let me know how she is and what’s going on, okay?” 

“I will,” she nods again. 

They see another cop enter the coat check area, obviously wanting to hear what Tobin has to say. He leaves after only a few minutes, speaking again with the manager and receiving a CD that most likely has the attack captured from their cameras. 

“We’ll wait here until you go,” Channing states, pushing her and Tobin’s coats in her hands and giving Christen a little push towards the coat check, Christen now feeling a sense of dread facing Tobin again. She’s freaking out that Tobin will be upset with her, that she brought this on somehow. 

Her legs feel like lead, making her steps slow as she enters the coat check area again, seeing Tobin on the gurney, sitting up, huddled under a blanket, a thick white bandage on   
her head, holding an icepack to the side of her head. She sees they’ve given her an IV, Tobin’s sweater is off, now in just the t-shirt she had on underneath and a needle in her arm. 

Tobin sees her and gives her a faint smile and moves her hand. 

“Hay-hay-hey,” she says quietly, “yu-yu-ou okay?” she’s looking at Christen carefully, her bloodshot eyes scanning her as if she’s trying to read her expression. 

“I’m okay,” she replies just as quietly, edging next to the gurney, reaching out to hold her free hand. “I’d like to come with you to the hospital,” she says nervously, “if that’s okay with you,” 

Tobin gives her another faint smile, “Yeah,” she says with a nod, “I’d l-l-l-like th-that,” her words are a little slurred. 

Christen is relieved she’s not stuttering as much anymore, her breathing is back to normal and she seems calmer. 

“We gave her some pain meds,” the female medic informs her, “you coming with us?” 

“Yes,” she nods, still looking at Tobin, realizing her eyes are a little glassy. Must be the drugs. 

“Thanks,” Tobin mumbles, fidgeting a little as she sits, pulling the blanket up over one of her shoulders. 

“Are you cold?” Christen asks, pulling the blanket up on the other side. 

“Wuh-wuh-wet,” Tobin replies with a shiver. That’s right, Christen thinks, she was drenched from the drinks on the table and the bottle that hit her. 

“Okay,” the other medic announces, pulling a strap over Tobin’s waist and cinching it in place, “we’re heading out.” 

 

 

XXXX 

 

 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Christen says as she guides Tobin along the hallway to her condo, clumsily bouncing off the wall. Christen had decided to just bring her here thinking Tobin would be more comfortable in her own surroundings. Tobin has her arm slung over her shoulder, Christen holding her wrist and has her other arm around her waist as they sway towards her door. 

Tobin was pretty quiet while they were at the hospital, not speaking much to her or anyone. She hardly flinched when they stitched her head and cheek. Tobin’s face was blank and expressionless when a female officer showed up to take photos of her injuries. Christen teared up as the officer instructed Tobin to look at the camera as she snapped photos of her injuries. Christen sat there trembling, as Tobin just stared ahead, the quiet click of the camera and the flash making her squint a little. Tobin didn't have much to say to the officer. With wide eyes she tells her how she was tapped on the shoulder, said yeah her name was Tobin and then she got hit by the bottle. She holds Christen's hand tightly as she speaks with her, a sense of utter shock in Tobin's voice. Like she can't really believe this has just happened. 

Christen sat alone in the emergency room bay when Tobin was wheeled out to get a scan on her head, waiting impatiently, her mind wandering. 

By the time Tobin got back, Christen full on believed Tobin was upset with her for this happening. She was responsible for Monica hurting her. She knows it’s her fault and now she knows Tobin is mad, being so quiet, probably not wanting to cause a scene at the hospital. She probably wants to break it off, not see her anymore. Sorrow washed over Christen, feeling a sadness that cut her deep.

They took an Uber to Tobin’s place, Tobin just looking out the window, trying to wrap what happened to her around her head. She’s never been attacked before. Yeah, she’s had some scary experiences with fans that were a little too friendly, but nothing like this. She’s still scared, glad Monica is in jail for the night but the unknown of what could happen in the future weighing heavily on her tired mind. She holds Christen’s hand the whole way to her place, needing to feel her comfort, hoping she’s okay with her being quiet, hoping she understands that she’s embarrassed she’ll still stutter, her emotions are just under the surface, just waiting for a match to light them and explode in a ball of confusion and terror and pain. 

A combination of the drugs from the hospital, being exhausted from the emotions of the night and the burst of adrenalin she had come down from, Tobin wasn’t moving that great. 

If one didn’t know she had been assaulted, one would rightfully think she was drunk off her ass. 

As Christen enters the key in the lock, she suddenly remembers that Alex is supposed to be there tonight. Shit, she thinks, we’ve got to be quiet. She slowly gets Tobin through the door and leaned up against the wall as she closes the door behind them. She takes off her coat and hangs it up, turning to find Tobin in a slow struggle with her sleeve to get her jacket off. 

“What the,” she’s muttering, shaking her arm, letting the leather sleeve flail around, making a slapping noise as it hits the side table she’s standing next to.

“Here,” Christen says, dropping her purse and the bag from the hospital that is carrying an abundance of bandages and antibiotic creams, taking a hold of her shoulders, “let me help,” she says, wrinkling her nose a little, the strong scent of beer and alcohol wafting from Tobin’s sweater and hair. 

She bites her lower lip as considers where to place the jacket, not wanting it to stink up the closet. She hangs it on the closet doorknob. 

“I’m hungry,” Tobin declares rather loudly, leaning up against the side table with one hand, “I need to eat something,” she says, “you hungry?” 

“Not really,” Christen replies quietly, her stomach finally calming from the nausea she was experiencing since the incident occurred. 

“Oh,” Tobin says, bending down to get her boot off, loosing her balance, her hand sliding across the side table sending a candle, the key basket filled with change and a book to the ground. Christen cringes at the loud noise, hoping it doesn’t wake Alex. 

“Woah!” Tobin exclaims, clutching the table, leaning against it. 

“Ssshhh!” Christen chastises her, “You’ll wake up Alex,” she says, putting a finger to her mouth, although she feels that they’re being too loud anyway and Alex will be up very shortly. 

“Oh shit!” Tobin frowns, “Sorry,” she whispers. 

“Let me help you get your boots off,” Christen suggests, “just hold on to the table and lift a leg.” 

Tobin attempts it, her balance off, listing to the side, pushing the table a foot, the table legs screeching across the hardwood floor.

A door down the hall opens quickly, a woman in a tank top and sweat pants holding a baseball bat at the ready pouncing into the hall, “What the fuck!” she exclaims, her eyes blinking from the hall light. 

“Hey Al,” Tobin greets, her back to her, as she attempts to help Christen who is on her knees getting the second boot off. 

“What the fuck Tobin?” the woman questions angrily, Christen assumes it’s Alex but she hasn’t looked up yet, cringing at the thought of facing her. 

Tobin sways a little as she takes off her damp sweater, no longer wanting it on herself, tangling her arms in the sleeves. 

“You smell like a brewery- are you drunk?” Alex questions loudly, “Are you Christen?” 

Christen stands, pulling Tobin’s arms down, the sweater hanging around her neck. “Yeah,” she replies uneasily, “uh, hi,” 

“Tobin, I thought you said you weren’t coming hom-” Alex stops when she sees the blood on the sweater and squints to see the stitches and newly formed bruise on her cheek. 

Then she realizes what she thought was a beanie is actually a large bandage around Tobin’s head. 

“What happened?” She questions, instantly alarmed, striding forward, “Are you okay?” 

“I, uh, sorta got hit with a bottle at the bar,” Tobin quietly answers, having enough sense not to just spill the whole story. She knows that Christen is incredibly upset about what happened and doesn’t want to feed the flames of her emotions. She hadn’t spoken much to her at the hospital mostly because of her stutter, she was so embarrassed by it, but she knew she wasn’t a hundred percent and didn’t want to anything wrong to Christen to make her more upset. 

“Oh my God!” Alex exclaims, “Tobin, are you alright?” she lowers the bat and takes a few steps towards them, her mouth open as she sees the damage. 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies tiredly, “m’okay,” 

“Are you okay, Christen?” Alex asks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she replies quietly, Alex instantly knowing that whatever the story is of what happened tonight, it’s affected this woman greatly. She can see it on her face. 

“I’m sorry for us barging in here,” Christen apologizes, slipping an arm around Tobin’s waist and helping her walk towards Alex, “it was my idea,” she continues, “I thought Tobin would be more comfortable at her place,” 

“Oh, hey, no,” Alex says, relaxing her pose and leaning the bat against the wall, “of course,” she says, “I’m Alex,” 

“Nice to meet you,” Christen nods, Tobin is leaning on her, slowly losing her balance, “uh, Tobin should we go to the couch?” 

“Maybe kitchen table?” Tobin says tired, "I'm all wet and gross,” 

Alex moves ahead of them and pulls out a chair, looking Tobin over critically, “Are you concussed? Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

“Just my head,” Tobin answers, sitting slowly in the chair, she looks at Christen, “do I have a concussion?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No, you don’t, sweetie,” she says, “can I make you a sandwich or some soup?” 

“A PB and J would be awesome,” Tobin replies, looking up at her gratefully. 

“I can do it,” Alex declares, “Christen sit,” she says, seeing how exhausted the woman looks, moving to the counter, “Can I make you one? Are you thirsty?” 

“I don’t know,” Christen replies honestly, feeling just so tired and upset. She sits heavily in the chair next to Tobin. 

Tobin puts her arm around her, “It’ll be okay babe,” she assures her, “I’ll be fine, and everything will work out,” 

Christen fights back the tears, nodding at her, “I hope so,” she glances at Alex who is busy pulling out a loaf of bread. 

“Tobs, is your stomach okay?” Alex asks as she gets out the peanut butter, “Not jumpy?” 

“Nah, it’s okay,” she replies quietly and then yawns. Slowly she works the sweater off from around her neck, setting it on the table. “Gonna have to soak it,” she mumbles to herself.   
Christen stands and immediately takes the sweater and heads for the laundry nook. 

“Chris,” Tobin tiredly calls out, “it’s okay,” 

“I got it,” Christen responds, clicking on the light and looking for a stain remover. She returns in a few minutes, the low noise of the machine coming to life. 

Alex sets a plate with a sandwich in front of both Christen and Tobin, coming back with a glass of milk for Tobin. “Christen, what would you like to drink?” she asks gently, seeing how upset she is. 

Christen shrugs, “Milk is fine,” she mumbles. 

“Babe,” Tobin says as she finishes chewing, “it’s gonna be okay,” 

Christen nods, looking down and taking a bite of her sandwich, suddenly hungry. “Thanks,” she says when Alex sets the glass of milk in front of her and then sits down across from them. 

Tobin makes eye contact with Alex, then glances and tilts her head at Christen, “So, Al,” she says, “how was England?” 

Alex hesitantly begins to tell them about her trip, realizing the topic of how Tobin ended up getting hit with a bottle wasn’t going to be told to her right now. One glance at Christen and Alex can see how fragile she looks, like she’s just barely holding it together. Tobin asks her questions on where she’d gone, what she ate. 

When they both finish their sandwiches and Alex is done with her story, Tobin yawns again. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, okay?” she asks, “I want to get cleaned up.” 

“I’ll go with,” Christen says quickly, “I don’t want you to fall.” 

“Okay,” Tobin says, standing up with a sway and picking up her plate and empty glass. Christen retrieves the bag from the hospital and follows Tobin into her room. 

 

 

“Just relax,” Christen says, stroking Tobin’s damp hair back off her forehead, “just sleep.”

They’re on the couch, Tobin with a fresh bandage on her head, warm in her sweatshirt and jogging pants, with her feet up on the ottoman, burrowed into the cushions of the couch. The doctor suggested she sleep upright tonight, expecting her to be in some discomfort from the knock to her face and head.

"Chris," Tobin says with a hitch in her chest, tears coming, "I was so scared," she cries. 

"You're safe now," Christen assures her, "it's all over, you're safe," she repeats, tears welling in her eyes, feeling just so guilty about the whole thing. "Just close your eyes," she says, "take a deep breath in, nice and slow," she watches her, "nice and easy, there you go, just let yourself drift off," She strokes her hair tenderly. It takes a few minutes and Tobin calms. 

“Night, Chris,” Tobin says tiredly, her eyes closed, sighing heavily. It only takes about three minutes for her to sleep. Christen watching as Tobin’s mouth drops slightly open, soft snores coming out. 

She turns and sees Alex in the kitchen, washing the dishes and wiping the counter and slowly gets up from the couch, approaching her. Alex nods to her, then turns to the cabinet and fishes out Tobin’s bottle of whiskey, raising an eyebrow when she holds it up. Christen nods and Alex retrieves two glasses, tossing a couple of ice cubes in each and pouring a healthy amount in them. Alex also does not believe in anyone drinking alone. 

They sit at the kitchen table, each taking a sip. 

“I dated a woman for six months,” Christen begins, unsure of what Tobin may have shared with Alex about Monica or even if she did at all, “and when we broke up, I saw a side of her I didn’t know existed.” She continues on to tell Alex the entire story, feeling Alex needs to know how they arrived at tonight’s incident. 

Alex listens patiently, knowing a few tidbits here and there from Tobin, not interrupting. When Christen finishes, she takes a long drink of the whiskey, then sighs noisily. “So now you know,” she says dejectedly. 

“I’m so sorry you’re going though this, Christen,” Alex says genuinely, “I’ve had my share of stalkers and it’s scary as Hell,” she nods, “it’s really sucks. You feel such a loss of freedom, you don’t feel safe, but please,” she takes a drink and then leans forward and points a finger at her, “don’t you ever feel that this is your fault. It’s not.” 

Christen nods, she knows rationally Alex is correct, but emotionally, all it takes is one look at Tobin’s cuts and bruises and she feels it is all of her fault. Tobin, an innocent in all of this, dragged into it by her. Suffering because of her. 

“Yeah,” she replies nodding, because she knows that what Alex wants to hear. “Listen,” she says, “I, uh, I should go,” she says, standing up from the table, “I hate just kind of dropping her here and leaving you with her like this, but I’ve got my dogs and…” 

“Please don’t,” Alex says, “don’t do this to her,” she rises with her. She can see the panic in Christen’s eyes, the guilt in them. She doesn’t know this woman at all, but Alex can tell she’s freaking out and feels responsible for Tobin’s injuries. 

Christen gets her phone and orders an Uber. She comes over to the couch, looking sadly at Tobin, her eyes once again welling with tears. She bends over and kisses Tobin’s forehead, then straightens up. 

“I’m sorry we met under these circumstances,” she says quietly to Alex.

“Christen, please don’t let her wake up without you being here,” she persists, “she’ll be so upset, so worried about you.” 

“Alex, I can’t,” Christen replies, the panic rising in her, she can hear it in her voice, knowing that tomorrow it will be a shitshow, all those cameras, it’s probably all over the internet by now. “I’ve got to go.” 

“I’m begging you to stay,” Alex urges. “Please don’t do this,” 

“I can’t,” Christen whispers, her chin quivering, glancing over at Tobin. 

Alex hangs her head, “Okay,” she says quietly, looking up at her, seeing how freaked out she is, “please let her know you’re okay, please don’t ghost on her.” 

Christen nods, “Uh huh,” she says quickly and unconvincingly, “thanks Alex.” She grabs her coat and purse and slips out the door. 

Alex shuts the door behind her and walks down the hall, hugging herself and standing in the living room looking at Tobin. This is going to be bad, she thinks, slowly turning to her room to grab a blanket and her pillow. She’ll sleep on the couch so Tobin won’t wake up alone. 

 

XXXX


	24. Angst and Wallowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin awakes without Christen being there. She's upset- that's an understatement. 
> 
> Christen wallows, fearful Tobin is upset with her. She throws herself a major pity party. 
> 
> Will these two get their shit together?

.

 

December 6, 2015 

Day 37

Tobin shifts a little on the couch, eyes closed, turning her head and wincing when she feels the bruise on the side of it, turning her head back quickly. She’s on couch, nestled under her favorite fuzzy blanket, a pillow behind her head.

She grimaces as she opens her mouth, then runs her tongue along her teeth, yeah, she’s pretty sure she didn’t brush her teeth last night as she opens her eyes. She squints and sees Alex curled up in the opposite corner of the couch, drooling on her pillow and snoring away like a champ. No sign of Christen. 

“Chris?” Tobin calls out quietly, her voice scratchy and low.

She sniffs as she slowly straightens up from the slouch she’s in, yawning and then lifting her feet off the coffee table and onto the floor, looking around the apartment. Not wanting to disturb Alex, she slowly moves her blanket off herself, letting it drop off the far side of the couch, leaning forward to sit up. She feels little dizzy for a moment and then it passes. 

Carefully, she stands, holding on the arm of the couch, waiting for the dizziness to pass and then softly pads to her room. She checks the kitchen table and the counter, hoping to find a note. She slumps her shoulders when there is none. In the hallway, she doesn’t see Christen’s shoes, just her and Alex’s boots. She frowns. She sees her leather jacket is on a hanging from the closet doorknob, reeking of beer. She grimaces as she searches the pockets and finds her wallet and phone. 

Her phone is dead. Well shit, she thinks, heading to her room and dropping it on her bed, noting it wasn’t slept in. Christen didn’t stay, she realizes, frowning. Well, her sister is in town and was leaving sometime this morning, she reasons, maybe she left to drive her to the airport and check on the dogs. 

She goes to her room, uses the bathroom, brushes her teeth, squinting as she studies her face in the mirror. She has a line of six stitches across her cheekbone and sees some bruising forming beneath it. She pulls her hair back and parts it, grateful they didn’t shave off a bunch of it. She has more stitches in the cut, she can’t make out how many though. 

She gingerly runs two fingers over the bump, it’s smaller than a golf ball but very painful. She’s sighs, blowing air out noisily through her mouth, this sucks, she thinks. She leans on her hands against the counter, head down. She didn't stay, she thinks, why didn't she stay? She has a pounding headache, she’s tired and she wants to know where Christen is. She knows she wasn’t totally with it last night, but she does know that Chris was really upset. They both were. She pushes off the counter and leaves the bathroom. 

She finds her glasses on the nightstand as she passes through her room, pausing to put them on, relieved they don’t hurt her cheek and retrieves her phone as she heads back out to the kitchen. She plugs her phone in, gets some Tylenol and water, swallows the pills down and heads back to the couch. 

She sees Alex hasn’t moved yet, she knows she’s exhausted from her travel day and then being up in the night with her, she frowns, then slowly lowers herself back on the couch, putting her glasses on the side table and pulling the blanket over herself. 

I’ll just rest for a little bit while my phone charges and when I get up, I’ll call Chris and check in, she thinks, closing her eyes and snuggling in, God, I hope she’s okay. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Al,” Tobin says, looking up from her phone, her eyes sad and red, “sh-sh-she didn’t call or t-t-t-text,” her voice cracks. It’s later in the afternoon and Tobin has just woken up from another nap. She had woken up when Alex did, the two eating a quiet breakfast, Tobin preoccupied with her phone texting Christen. She texted her family that had already seen the videos of her attack, letting them know she was fine but tired and would talk to them later. She fell asleep again while waiting for a reply from Christen, on the couch, phone in hand. 

 

Alex frowns as she sits down next to her, “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. 

“Why wu-wu-wouldn’t she?” Tobin questions, “I’ve t-t-t-texted her like, ten times, I’ve l-l-l-left three voice-mm-mails.” 

“I don’t know,” Alex replies sadly. She realizes Tobin is so upset right now, her stutter apparent. 

Tobin turns to look at her, “I don’t understand,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill, “I di-didn’t say anything ba-ba-bad to her, did I?” 

“I don’t think so,” Alex frowns, feeling bad for Tobin. “I get the feeling she feels responsible it happened,” she shrugs, “that you may be mad at her for Monica attacking you,” 

Tobin sighs, dropping her eyes, frowning. “I should go see her,” she says, leaning forward to stand, swaying a little. 

Alex jumps up, laying a hand on her forearm, “Tobin, you shouldn’t be driving,” she says sternly.

“Al,” Tobin looks at her, determination in her eyes, “I need to see her, I need to know she’s okay,” 

Alex studies her, she can clearly see how miserable she is. “Give me two minutes,” she says firmly, “I’ll drive.” 

 

“Shit,” Alex mutters from behind the steering wheel, parked in the driveway as she watches Tobin move behind the bushes in front of Christen’s house to peer into the window. 

She’s been out there for ten minutes, ringing the doorbell, knocking, calling for Christen. 

Tobin moves back to the porch, sitting down on the steps, pulling her phone out and texting another message. 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Tobin says she’s at your house,” Jen informs Christen as she reads her text message on Christen’s phone, “like, three hours ago.” She’s just unplugged it from charging and is going through her messages. She looks at her, “You need to talk to her,” she says sternly, “Chris,” she says, walking over to the couch, “she sounds worried out her mind about you,” 

“I can’t,” Christen whispers, “it’s all my fault.” Christen turns on toward the back of the couch, wrapped under a blanket, weeping softly. 

“This is ridiculous,” Jen mutters under breath, striding to her kitchen and getting something to drink. Christen came over after dropping Channing at the airport. When the Uber dropped her off last night, Christen sat in her backyard for an hour as the sun rose, feeling miserable. Then she went in the house, let the dogs out and showered. Channing tried to convince her to text Tobin, but Christen was stubborn. She was actually terrified that if she contacted Tobin, the woman would let loose on her, blaming her for her injuries and then breaking up with her. Channing tried her best all the way to the airport to convince Christen otherwise. Currently Morena and Kahleesi are napping in the family room with Sam. Jen’s been trying to convince Christen all afternoon that Tobin wouldn’t blame her for Monica attacking her. Christen doesn’t believe her.

When Christen gets stubborn like this, she shuts down, unwilling to listen until she has time to process this on her own. Once that singular idea takes root in her mind, it’s hard to change it. Jen reminds herself that while Christen is academically brilliant, her social skills are a little undeveloped, probably due to her focusing so much on her achievements and ignoring many social activities as a youth. Jen is just worried now because this affects Tobin, this affects their relationship. Jen stands at the counter, holding Christen’s phone in her hands, looking over the messages from Tobin, how each one shows more concern. She feels terrible for the poor woman. 

An hour later, she busies herself making dinner racking her mind to figure out how to handle this situation. Christen is listless through dinner, picking at her meal. She goes to the guest room after, claiming tiredness from being up all night even though she’s laid around most of the afternoon since she arrived at Jen’s house. She didn’t sleep, her mind turning over the events of last night, replaying Tobin’s terrified face, her cuts, the blood. 

Tobin has been consistently calling and texting all day. 

Jen sighs heavily and types out a message to her. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

The ride back to their apartment is quiet, Tobin looking out the window biting her lower lip. 

“What am I gonna do, Al?” Tobin questions miserably. 

“Tobin,” Alex says as she glances at her, seeing the trail of a single lonely tear coming down her cheek, “I think the only you can do right now is be patient,” 

Tobin lets out a huff. 

“And I know that’s got to be the hardest thing,” Alex continues, “but I don’t know what else you can do.”

“You’re right,” Tobin sighs heavily. She slouches lower in her seat, leaning back and shutting her eyes. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Jesus, Tobin, are you okay?” Allie questions, rushing down the hall as the two enter their apartment. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says irritably, “I’m fine,” she heads to her room, “I’m going to take a nap.” She shuts the door firmly behind herself, leaving Allie to stare questioningly at Alex in the hallway. Alex takes off her jacket and beckons Allie to follow her to the kitchen. After a minute, the two hear some depressing song coming from Tobin’s room. 

“I think there’s a couple of sleazy reporters out in front of the building,” Allie informs her, “they looked rather suspicious.” 

“Security will shoo them away,” Alex frowns. 

“So, I saw the clips on Twitter,” Allie states, “what else happened?” 

They sit at the table and Alex fills in a bewildered Allie on what is happening. 

“Oh, this is awful,” Allie laments, “I guess I don’t understand why Christen would just stop speaking to Tobin though,” 

Alex looks at her thoughtfully, “I think she’s embarrassed it happened, feels responsible it happened and is scared that it happened and thinks Tobin is upset with her about it even though she isn’t.” 

“Huh,” Allie gazes off to the side as she considers the comment. “Do you think she’ll break up with her over it?” 

“Who? Christen or Tobin?” 

“Christen,” Allie emphasizes, leaning back in her chair. “I mean, I don’t know her enough to really think she’d do that, those two are so adorable together.” 

Alex smiles wistfully, “Wish I could have seen them together before this happened,” 

“Oh, God, Alex,” Allie chuckles, leaning for forward, hands on the table, “they were like, so cute. Relationship goals.” 

“Yeah?” Alex’s lip curls into a wistful smile, “Wish I could have seen it,” she blows out a breath of air, “Tobin’s gonna be so upset.” 

“We’ll just have to help her through it,” Allie states, “who knows, maybe Christen just needs a day or two process what happened.” 

“Al,” Alex says, standing up from the table, “it’s all over social media, it’s on the news,” she turns to get a water from the fridge, tossing one to Allie, “she hasn’t said anything, but Tobin’s been freaking out over how public this is. This is not going away in a day or two,” 

“Sure it will,” Allie says confidently, “it’s today’s big thing, tomorrow there’ll be something else,” she predicts. 

“You may have a point,” Alex says as she lowers the bottle from her mouth, “I’m giving her a couple of hours and then I’m going in there.”

“Is Cindy coming out here?” Allie questions, “Did Tobin talk to her?” 

Alex shakes her head, “I spoke with Cindy as soon as I got up,” she says, “I checked Twitter, saw the clips and then called her.”

“That had to be scary as Hell,” Allie murmurs.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure how much Tobin had told her about Christen, but I told her everything I knew about what happened,” she explains, “I had a chance to talk with Christen last night,” she shakes her head, “she was so freaked out, I felt so bad,” 

Eventually talk shifts to Alex’s trip and they catch up on their lives while apart. Alex fills her in on the trade, Allie excited for her. 

They both hear the music stop. 

“Want me to hang out too?” Allie asks, looking at her. 

“Nah,” Alex shakes her head, “I think a one on one talk might be better, she won’t feel like we’re ganging up on her. Get defensive.” 

“Good point,” Allie agrees, “I’m gonna go,” she stands up, “text me if you need anything, ‘kay?” 

“I will,” Alex replies, frowning, “I hate seeing her like this,” 

Allie silently tip toes down the hall, leaning her head up against Tobin’s door, she listens for a minute gesturing to Alex with her hand extending her thumb and pinky finger bringing it up next to her head, mouthing that Tobin’s on the phone. 

Alex nods and watches Allie slip out the door. 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin laid on her bed, sniffling for an hour feeling absolutely terrible as she played the most depressing songs on her playlist. She’s bewildered why Christen hasn’t spoken with her. Then she remembers Christen feeling responsible for what happened at Jen’s house during their party when Monica stormed in. She huffs, rolling over, pondering how to make Christen understand she doesn’t blame her. 

After a few minutes, she realizes she needs to talk to her Mom. 

 

“No, Mom really,” Tobin repeats, lying in bed in her darkened room, “I’m okay, just a little sore.” 

“Tobin, you were nearly killed!” Her Mom exclaims once more.

“I know, Mom,” Tobin replies forcefully, “I kinda can’t stop thinking about it,” 

Alex had spoken with Cindy earlier in the day while Tobin was sleeping, explaining all she knew of what occurred the night before. She promised she would have Tobin call her when she was up later. Cindy waited for as long as she could and then started calling Tobin. 

Tobin ignored the first two calls when she got in her room, not wanting to speak to anyone, too upset and angry to want to talk it out. She gave it some time, calming herself down and trying her hardest to find some perspective. 

“Mom, I’m just really upset that Christen won’t talk to me,” she says quietly, willing herself not to start crying again. 

“Oh honey,” Cindy replies, “she’s probably just as upset as you are. How would you feel if the places were switched? If it was Christen that got hurt because of someone from your past?” 

Tobin considers it for a moment, “I would feel terrible,” she replies slowly, “I would feel responsible, I guess, even though I couldn’t control that would happen.” 

“Yes, you would,” her Mom says, “and wouldn’t you feel just awful for all of the publicity this has generated? You told me how you shared with her how you like to keep things private.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin replies glumly. 

“And maybe you might feel like she would be upset with you even if she didn’t give you a reason to feel like that? Maybe you’d feel it because you think you should?” 

“Mom,” Tobin whines, “I’m not mad at her,” she says adamantly.

“I know,” Cindy states, “but the mind plays tricks on people, honey. You just need to let her have some space, let her figure out how to navigate this. She’ll have to sort her own feelings out before she can face you and yours.” 

“But if the places were swapped, I’d be by her side, Mom,” Tobin says with an uncharacteristic flare of anger, “I wouldn’t just leave in the middle of the night,” she says bitterly, “I’d want to take care of her, make sure she’s okay and be there for her.” 

“And that’s you,” her Mom answers back firmly, “that’s how you’re wired, that’s how you feel. Maybe Christen wants to do that for you, maybe she wants to be there, but she just can’t over how guilty she feels for it happening to you. Maybe she can’t look at you, she’ll only see your cuts and bruises. Maybe when she closes her eyes, all she can see is that woman holding a bottle to your throat.” 

“You’re right,” Tobin admits quietly, “you’re right.”

The two are silent for a minute. 

“Mom, I think I’m gonna let you go,” Tobin says, flinging the comforter to the side and sitting up, “I was kind of rude to Allie a little while ago and I need to apologize to her.” 

“Okay sweetie,” her mom says warmly, “try not to worry too much. I know it’s hard, but it will all work out, dear.” She pauses for a moment, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come out there?” 

“No, Mom,” Tobin replies, “thank you, but I’m okay. It’s just some stitches and a bump.” 

“If you’re sure…” 

“Thanks Mom,” Tobin says, “I love you,” 

“Love you too, honey,” she replies, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Tobin ends the call and stands up, grabbing a hoodie and opening her door. She saunters down the hallway, noticing Alex’s door is open and empty. She pokes her head in the living room finding her sprawled on the couch under a blanket. 

“Hey,” Alex greets simply, lifting her legs that are wrapped in the blanket so Tobin can sit on the end of the couch. She does so and Alex lowers her feet on her lap. 

They don’t speak, both looking at the TV. Finally, Tobin can’t take it. “What the Hell are you watching?” she recoils and grimaces as someone gets shot in the head. 

Alex clicks it off, knowing how Tobin hates scary and gory movies. “Some movie Allie said was awesome. It kinda sucks.” 

“Oh,” Tobin says, shifting to slouch back on the couch. 

“You remember last year at the Thorns banquet when that crazy stalker guy busted in and started shouting at me?” Alex says suddenly. 

“Yeah, that was wild.” Tobin replies, looking over at her, seeing Alex has her eyes on the blank TV screen. 

“You remember how embarrassed and awful I felt for that happening?” 

Tobin bites her lip and nods once, “I do,” she says quietly. 

“I wanted to disappear,” Alex continues, “I felt responsible for that jackass doing that,” she says, “even though he was the one who broke in the to the room and did those things, I felt like it was my fault.” 

“I get your point, Al,” Tobin says gently, setting a hand on her foot, “my Mom just said something very much along those lines.” 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Alex turns to look at her. 

“I’m going to fight for her, Al,” Tobin says with resolve, “I think I’m falling in love in with her.” 

Alex’s eyebrows shoot high on her forehead, “Yeah?” 

Tobin smiles at her, “Yeah,” she says, letting out a deep breath, “boy, that felt wild to say.” 

Alex grins at her, “She’ll come around,” she predicts. 

“I really hope so,” Tobin swallows, “I really do.” 

Tobin swipes at her mouth and then looks at Alex, “Enough about me,” she says firmly, “did you take any pics of rings you liked?” 

“Really?” Alex asks, unsure Tobin would want to talk about it right now. 

“I need to hear happy things,” Tobin smiles at her, “I need happy thoughts,” she slaps her leg, “get up and show me,” she says. “Then when Servando asks,” she grins at her, “I’ll know what to tell him.”

Alex grins as she sits up and scoots over next to her, pulling out her phone. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

It’s later in the evening and Tobin and Alex have just finished enjoying nearly half of the milk and a batch of chocolate chip cookies, that turned out surprisingly awesome, thanks to Tobin using the proper wet and dry measuring cups, when Alex looks at her soberly. 

“Tobin, I need to talk to you about something before you hear it somewhere else,” she says seriously, looking uncertain. 

Tobin eyes her, seeing the somberness, the uncertainty. “You’re going to Orlando,” she states slowly, biting her lower lip and then continuing, “when’s the news gonna break?” 

Alex nods, “Sometime this week,” she replies quietly. 

Tobin sucks on her lower lip, nodding her head slowly and repeatedly, taking it in that it’s really happening, “I’m gonna miss you so much,” she says slowly, turning to face her, “but I’m super excited for you,” she gives her a soft smile. 

“Yeah?” Alex questions, not believing her. 

“Yes,” Tobin laughs, “are you kidding me?” She swivels on the couch, facing her, “Al, you’ll be the anchor of that team,” she says excitedly, “they’ll have to build around you. You’ll be in Orlando with Serv, plus the league is expanding? Like, how awesome is that?” 

“You’re not mad?” Alex winces. 

“Mad?” Tobin shakes her head, “No. Sad? Yes, because I’ll miss you so much,” Tobin smiles at her, “Al, it’s a fantastic opportunity. Do you know who’s coaching?” 

Alex’s lip curls into a half smile, “Tom,” 

“Sermanni?” Tobin’s surprised, “Holy shit! That’s amazing, Al!” 

Alex smiles big, “We were negotiating while I was in England,” she explains, “it happened so fast, I had only heard the rumor it might happened this year, definitely next year. I guess they landed Tom, the facilities fell into place with Orlando City and it accelerated everything.”

“Wow!” Tobin exclaims, “That’s nuts! What did Mark say?” 

“He was sorry to see me go but happy for me,” Alex responds, “I guess there’s a big trade in the works.” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, we were wondering about that,” she says, “I think it’ll be a three way, they had Kling here working out while you were gone.” 

“Houston, Portland and Orlando, hmm,” Alex mulls it over. “There has to be draft picks involved.” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, well, Horan is coming here, they have her rights, I’ll bet the Thorns get Orlando’s first round to make sure they get Sonnett.” 

“I heard Ashlyn is coming from Washington,” Alex adds, “but I don’t know what internationals they’re talking to, or who else they're picking up.” 

“When are you leaving?” Tobin asks, curling her knees up and hugging her legs with her arms. 

“In January some time,” Alex replies, “around the middle of the month, after January camp.” 

“Okay,” Tobin scrunches her mouth, “we’ll have time to figure out what you want to take,” 

“Oh, no,” Alex argues, “Serv has some furniture, I don’t want to take all your stuff,” 

“Well, you bought some of it,” Tobin argues, shaking her head, “take what’s yours.” 

“Let’s figure it out later,” Alex suggests, “I’ll have Serv send me photos of his place, just to see how much of a bachelor pad it is now and then we’ll go from there.” 

“Okay,” Tobin grins at her, “whatever you want.” 

“Besides,” Alex smirks, “I’ve got a no trade clause for five years, free agent after two,” she says, “Me and Serv talked about maybe buying something down there,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” Alex says as she gets up, “so this stuff might not be really Orlando hip, you know?” 

“Yeah, it’s just Portland sweet,” Tobin grins as she gets up and hugs her, “I’m really happy for you,” she says, “2016 is gonna be a big year for you, I just know it.” 

“Thanks,” Alex whispers, “I couldn’t do this without knowing you’re supporting me,” 

“I’ll always be your cheerleader, Al,” Tobin pulls back and looks at her affectionately, “just not when we play against you,” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Alex grins back. She elbows Tobin as she walks away. 

Tobin’s phone chirps, indicating a message. She sits down and grabs it. Tobin reads the text, frowning. “Jen just texted,” 

“My sister?” Alex questions from the kitchen. 

“No, Christen’s friend,” Tobin replies, “she says Chris is really upset and mortified over what happened and just wants to let me know we’ll talk soon.” 

“Huh,” Alex says, “that’s encouraging,” 

“A little,” Tobin hedges, slowly typing out her reply. 

“What’d you write?” 

“How does this sound?” Tobin looks up at her, then back at her phone, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ve been so worried, I hope she’s okay, I know we can work through this. I’m hear whenever she wants to talk.” She looks up expectantly at her. 

“Sounds good,” Alex replies, patting her shoulder, “not forceful, just hopeful and willing, I like it.” 

“Hope so,” Tobin mumbles, pressing the send button. 

 

Tobin spends the next three hours responding to messages from teammates, friends and family letting them she’s okay. She has a long talk on the phone with her agent, another one with her publicist and a final one with Thorns security. 

She’s tired but can’t sleep, so she huddles up on the couch, writing in her journal. Alex had asked her if she wanted to go out for something to eat, but Tobin didn’t want to. She didn’t want to face the stares that she usually gets when out. It’s even worse with she’s with Alex, her being the superstar, but today, well today, she didn’t just have it in her to ignore those people. 

Alex understood, giving her a hug and promising her she’d bring her back something to eat. Alex wanted to give Tobin some space, she didn’t want her to feel claustrophobic or that she didn’t trust her to be alone. She left quietly. 

Still feeling edgy after getting off the phone, Tobin pulled out her personal journal, writing her thoughts down, expressing herself in ways she couldn’t speak to another person. It felt good, she felt that release of pressure off her shoulders, she felt that giving Christen time would be good and they would be able to work it out. 

She put herself in Christen’s shoes, how she would feel with what happened. It struck her that Christen might be more upset than she was about how public the incident had gone. Tobin had watched one of the videos, her mouth open, having a hard time grasping that was her on the screen. She saw how Tanc moved in, knocking Monica off her feet with one punch, sending her to the ground and then giving her thrashing while Nima forced the bottle from Monica’s hand. 

It shook her how really close she was to being seriously injured, if not actually dead. How Christen calling out to Monica gave her time to defend herself. If Chris hadn’t done that, Tobin might not still be here. 

She thinks Chris is probably more upset with it going public than she is, maybe she gave her the vibe that she likes being so private that when something comes out, it really upsets her. Maybe when they talked before she gave her wrong impression that if private stuff came out on accident she would be super pissed about it. It does upset her, but not like to a crazy degree. Now that it’s out there, she doesn’t really care. It happened and there’s nothing she can do about it.

Her publicist had recommended she not speak about it, reminding her it was an open police investigation and she shouldn’t discuss it. Tobin felt that was great advice and was glad she mentioned it. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

When Jen came downstairs after changing into her pajamas, she enters the living room, grabbing a pillow from the loveseat and repeatedly smacking Christen’s form on the couch. 

“Hey!” Christen exclaims, “Stop!” 

“Enough is enough Christen!” Jen says angrily, fed up with how Christen is wallowing in her own pity party all day. “It’s almost eleven o’clock and you haven’t done a damn thing to help yourself,” she says a bit ticked off. “Can you just stop for a moment from thinking about yourself and think how Tobin must feeling right now?” 

Christen looks at her with large eyes, silent. 

“Out for fun evening, having a good time and blamo!” She smacks her palm with her fist, “Tobin gets knocked silly, dragged by her knees and a bottle is put to her throat. You take her to the hospital, she had to be freaked out, you take her home and then _you leave her_?” 

Jen stands before her crossing her arms, “Alone? The poor thing, I can’t imagine her waking up this morning and you’re gone. Then you won’t answer her,” she shakes her head, “for as brilliant as you are, you are pretty fucking stupid Christen.” She pulls Christen’s legs out from the couch and forces her way in to sit next to her. 

“Tobin really likes you,” Jen says gently, “why are you sabotaging it? Why won’t you talk to her? She went to your house! She tried to track you down, she wants to see you, Chris,” she says, “just talk to her.” 

Christen sniffs, realizing how selfish she’s been, thinking only of her feelings and imagining what Tobin’s would be- all of them negative towards her. She hasn’t taken the time to find out the truth. 

“Your hypothesis is that Tobin is upset with you. You’ve wasted a whole day wallowing. Now you have to test your theory and find the evidence to either prove or disprove it.” Jen states succinctly. 

“You’re right,” Christen replies, her voice cracking and shaky from her emotions, “I’ve completely shut her out because I’m terrified she does hate me for what happened.” 

“What are you going to do about that?” Jen pushes, standing up, frustrated that it’s taken Christen this long to come her senses. 

“I’m going to talk to her,” Christen replies. 

“No,” Jen shakes her head, “you’re going to talk _with_ her. You’re going to listen to her. You are going to understand what she says to you and you will express yourself to her. Got it?” 

“Yes,” Christen sniffs, tearing her gaze from Jen to focus on the blanket in her lap, “you’re right, I need to know. I need to hear what she’s feeling.” 

Jen sits down again next to her, bringing her arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, “Honey, just from what you’ve told me about Tobin and then seeing you two together last night,” she smiles, “sweetie, she’s good for you. She’s a good person. Don’t throw this away because you’re scared.” 

“Chris,” Jen continues, “don’t you see from all of her messages, she’s not mad,” she hugs her a little tighter, “she’s worried about you.”

Christen sniffs again, feeling the tears once again slide down her cheeks. “She is pretty wonderful,” she mumbles, she looks up at Jen, “what if it’s to late? What if she’s so pissed I’ve ignored her she doesn’t want to talk now?” 

Jen’s smile widens, she hands Christen her phone, “I may have spoken on your behalf. Go see her in the morning. Look at your phone. Leave the dogs here. You have a key, just come and get them whenever.” 

She stands up, “I’m going to bed.” 

Christen stands as well, hugging her tightly, “Thank you for everything,” she emotionally, refusing to start crying again, “I’ll go see her in the morning.” 

“You do that,” Jen says gently, giving her warm look, “if you don’t, I’ll kick your ass and drag you there myself.” 

“I will.” Christen promises. 

“Go to bed.” Jen states as she walks away, “Get some real sleep.” 

Christen folds the blanket, her mind buzzing now that she knows she will speak with Tobin. She shakes her head realizing her first thought is wondering what she should wear. She decides she’ll get up early, take the dogs home and shower and dress at her house, not rely on something from Jen’s closet. 

She shuts the lights off in the living room, making her way down the hall to the guest room, smiling when she sees Kahleesi and Morena already on the bed. 

I can do this, she thinks. I need to do this. She holds her phone in her hands, contemplating maybe just texting Tobin right now, wondering if she would answer. Praying she would answer. 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin is under the covers, lying in her bedroom, awake and feeling antsy. It’s sometime after eleven, she doesn’t have to get up early, she’s not training tomorrow, the medical team told her to come in on Wednesday. She’s got two free days and it grates on her that she can’t do anything. No running, no lifting, no shooting drills. None of her usual stress releases. 

She stares at her phone in her hand. Considering what she should do. Fuck it, she thinks, what’s the worst that can happen. I’ve already texted her, like, a hundred times today, what’s one more? She opens her texts and reads them over once again. It was nice of Jen to send her that one, she thinks. 

 

**Tobin: I miss our Pillow Talks.**

Her eyes widen when she sees the three dots blinking. She holds her breath. 

**Dr. Press <3: So do I**

Tobin bites her lip, she didn’t expect an answer. Think, Tobin, think. 

**Tobin: Babe, how are you feeling?**

**Dr. Press <3: Miserable.**

Tobin winces. Shit. 

**Dr. Press <3: Miserable with how I’ve treated you. I’m so sorry.**

**Tobin: I’m sorry if I said something to make you think I’m mad at you.**

**Dr. Press <3: You didn’t! It’s all me. **

**Tobin: I don’t exactly understand what’s making you so upset. Did I say or do something at the hospital or at my place last night to make you so upset? I honestly don’t really remember much of that part of the night.**

**Dr. Press <3: I think I’m projecting things you would be upset over. **

**Tobin: What types of things?**

**Dr. Press <3: The media coverage. How this is so public. **

**Dr. Press <3: That someone I was once with attacked you. **

**Dr. Press <3: That you’re in pain because of this**

**Tobin: Listen, I can understand how those things would make you feel. But I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. It never was. This is on Monica. Not you. She made the decision to come to the bar. Her. She made the decision to hit me. Chris, this just isn’t your fault.**

**Dr. Press <3: Can I come see you?**

**Tobin: Of course babe. Bring the dogs. If you want. If it’s easier for you.**

**Dr. Press <3: I’ll see you soon.**

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Tobin knocks quietly on Alex’s door, “Hey Al?” she asks, “You asleep?” 

“No, come in,” Alex replies. Tobin swings open the door and finds Alex in bed, on her laptop. 

“What’s up?” Alex asks, “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, fidgeting as she leans against the doorjamb, “I just wanted you to know Christen is coming over to talk.” 

“Yeah?” Alex’s mouth curls into a smile, “That’s awesome.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin breathes out, “she might bring her dogs, so I didn’t want you to freak if you heard them.” 

“She has puppies?” Alex’s eyes widen and she smiles as Tobin nods. 

“Thanks,” Alex grins at her, “and Tobin?” 

“Yeah?” Tobin’s hand is on the doorknob, ready to shut it. 

“Try not to be too loud with the makeup sex,” Alex smirks at her. She grabs her earphones, “Just in case,” 

“Shut up!” Tobin grins, closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the encouraging the words, the comments and kudos are certainly appreciated.


	25. Apologies and Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Christen talk about what happened. 
> 
> The next morning, Christen has to face Alex.

.

 

December 6, 2015 

Day 37/Late Night 

 

Tobin’s brushing her teeth her for the second time in twenty minutes. Feeling nervous while she waited, she removed the bandage, gingerly brushed her hair, keeping it down, changed into a long sleeved shirt and straightened her room a little. 

She leaves her room, making her way to the kitchen, wiping the counters down once again, even though she’s pretty sure Alex did them earlier. She sets out the mat she bought for the dog dishes. She retrieves the dishes from the cabinet under the sink, filling one with water and placing it along the hallway wall just as it meets the kitchen. She cruises the living room, making sure there’s no stray glasses or mugs left in there. Everything is in place. 

She sits on the couch, her left knee bouncing. Then she stands, pacing around the couch, then through the kitchen and back to the living room. 

She’s contemplating smoking a joint to calm herself when she hears a soft knock and trots to the door, unlocking it and opening it. She sees Christen with both dogs, the dogs talking with excitement. 

“Hi,” she breathes, taking in Christen. Her eyes are tired, carrying nervousness and uncertainty in them with the beginning of some darkness growing under them. 

“Hi,” Christen whispers back, looking at her. Tobin’s face is drawn and still a little pale, the large bandage is off her head, she’s wearing her glasses and her face is bruising just a bit under her stitches on her cheek. 

The two stare are at each other until Morena jumps up on Tobin’s leg. That snaps her out of it. 

“Here,” Tobin says softly, opening the door wider and stepping to the side, “come on in,”

“Thanks,” Christen says, glancing at her and giving her a soft smile, then her eyes go down, busying herself unleashing the dogs and curling the leashes in her hand. 

Tobin goes down on one knee quietly greeting the animals and petting them both. She straightens up, “Let me take your coat,” she offers, reaching a hand out as Christen silently removes it. Their fingers touch and Tobin lets them linger for a moment, giving Christen a small smile, before turning and opening the closet, placing her coat on a hanger and shutting the door. 

She can’t help herself when her hand finds the small of Christen’s back as she escorts her down the hallway. Christen notices the water dish and a new place mat underneath, feeling a hitch in her chest. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Tobin offers, turning to face her. She sees the sadness in Christen’s eyes, how she looks tired and drained a little lost. Christen is seeing the same expressions on Tobin’s face. 

Christen takes a silent step closer to her, “Can I?” she asks, bringing her hand up to Tobin’s face. Tobin nods and watches as Christen lightly traces Tobin’s stitches on her cheek, her eyes filling with tears. “Can I see your head?” she asks quietly, her voice trembling. 

Tobin turns her head to the side, bringing her hands up to part her hair around the cut and bump. She feels Christen’s fingers brush against her scalp, so lightly. Tobin captures Christen hand in hers, holding her other hand and easily holding them. 

“I’m okay,” Tobin says quietly, “let’s go talk in my room, huh?” 

Christen’s upper teeth are digging into her bottom lip, she nods in agreement and follows her down the hall. The dog sniff around and find the water dish, both lapping noisily as they drink. 

Tobin closes the door behind them and crawls across the bed, sitting cross legged and facing Christen who sits on the edge. Tobin swallows hard before she speaks. “Thanks for coming over,” she says, trying to make Christen feel at ease. She’s sitting rather stiffly on the corner of the bed. 

Christen takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Her eyes dance nervously as surveys Tobin on the bed. Very slowly, ever so cautiously, she moves across the mattress, crawling to face her, their knees touching. Then, as slowly as before, she reaches her hand out, palm upwards, looking up at Tobin who gives her a soft smile and lets her own hand find hers and give it a squeeze and holds it loosely. 

“I’m sorry for leaving,” Christen says unsteadily, “I was wrong.” 

Tobin nods, “Help me understand why babe,” she encourages. 

Christen sways a little, her eyes glazing over as she remembers last night, “When I saw it was Monica, and that she had hurt you,” she says softly, her voice trembling, “I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe the woman I was dating at one time was capable of hurting someone like that.” 

Tobin nods, giving her hand another squeeze. 

“I was shaken,” Christen continues, her eyes downward, slightly tilting her head as she speaks, “When she put that bottle to your neck,” she sniffs, “I thought I would lose everything. I was terrified for you. All I could see was how scared you were.” She wipes at her eyes. 

“It wasn’t until we were at the hospital that it dawned on me that you might be upset that this happened,” Christen says, lowering her eyes once again, “that you might blame me because Monica did this. We didn’t talk much and I thought you were so mad at me.” 

“Babe,” Tobin whispers, “no,” 

Christen holds a hand up, “I know that now,” she states, looking up at her, “the rational part of me hasn’t been working very well these last twenty-four hours,” she gives her a wry look. 

“I wasn’t talking much because I was stuttering,” Tobin explains, “and I was pretty loopy and I didn’t want to say anything stupid.” Christen nods. 

“By the time we got back to your place,” Christen sighs, “I had it in my mind that you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore, for all of this trouble I caused.” 

“Chris,” Tobin protests, “it wasn’t like that,” her voice cracking with emotion. 

“I know,” Christen acknowledges, “I know now, I didn’t then, though,” she runs her free hand through her curls, “I felt the best thing for you was to not be with me, because I brought all of this pain and suffering down on you.” 

Tobin drops her head, her shoulders lumping, then looks up at her, her eyes wet, “Chris? You really thought that of me? That I would let something like this just erase what we have together?” 

“Tobin I-” Christen starts but Tobin keeps speaking. 

“I th-thought we have some-something, like so-some-something pretty fu-fucking amazing,” Tobin says, getting worked up and unintentionally letting a little anger in her voice. 

“It h-h-hurts that yu-yu-you wuh-wuh-wuh-would think th-that of me,” she says, her voice rising in volume and pitch, “that real-really fu-fu-fucking hurts.”

“We do,” Christen quickly says, pulling at Tobin’s hand, “we have something incredible together,” she says, upset that Tobin’s getting so upset she’s stuttering, “and I’m sorry, I don’t dismiss our relationship, I don’t,” 

“Wuh-wuh-well it sounds like you were red-red-ready to just na-na-not ever t-t-t-talk to mm-m-me again,” Tobin says, her voice wavering with emotion and Christen can see a line of tears run down her face. Tobin rubs her forehead in frustration with her speech. 

“No,” she says softly, “I wasn’t.” She looks up at her, pleading with her, “I want to be with you, I do,” she shakes her head, “I was so embarrassed,” she looks at her, “Tobin, I was embarrassed that Monica did this to you. I was mortified. I thought you would think badly of me. I was scared you wouldn’t want to be with me, so I just left before you could say it.”

“You’re n-n-not making s-s-sen-sense,” Tobin says, frustrated, rubbing her forehead again, “yuh-yuh-you say you wa-wa-want to be with m-m-me, then you fa-fa-fa-figured you’d l-leave me b-be-before I could hurt you,” Tobin brings her hand to her face, using her fingers to pinch her nose, “can we st-st-stop talking in circles?” she asks, taking her glasses off to wipe her eyes and then pushing her glasses up on her nose. 

“Yes,” Christen says quietly, feeling awful that Tobin’s struggling with her speech from being upset. Upset with her. 

“C-com-come here,” Tobin urges, pulling her to her side, putting her arm around her shoulder and guiding her back to lie on the bed. The two lay here, side by side, Christen rigid next to her. 

“Just re-relax,” Tobin shakes her arm, jostling Christen a little, “d-d-do this, o-o-okay?” 

“What?” 

“Okay, we-we’ll t-t-ta-take some de-de-de-deep bra-bra-breaths,” Tobin says, inhaling deeply and letting it out slowly. She knows she needs to calm herself down or her stuttering is going to make this conversation take like, four hours longer. She also knows Christen usually mediates and does yoga each morning and figures she has a feeling Christen hasn’t done anything to ground herself since this all happened. She hopes this will help settle her a little, set her at ease and allow herself to just calm down. Tobin usually does this for herself to calm herself down when she’s stuttering badly. The brief thought passes through her mind that she didn't stutter at all when she was goign through all the drama with Shirley. What did that mean, she wonders, did it mean that deep down, her feelings for Shirley weren't serious as the feelings she has for Christen? She ponders that as she steadily takes her deep breaths, it must be. It must be because I love Christen. Maybe I didn't know what love truly was when I was with Shirley. Yeah, breaking up with her hurt, like, bad, but I don't remember ever feeling the panic I did at the thought of losing Christen when I was so upset over Shirley. I don't think I could live with out Chris, she realizes, I love her. I really do. 

They do this together for about ten minutes. Lying next to each other, both in sync as they breathe deeply. 

“Now,” Tobin says, feeling much better, calmer, “this sounds super weird,” she says softly, “but I promise it works. Next time you take a deep breath, let it fill your stomach too. Before you let the air out, put the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Then let the air out slowly through your mouth.” 

Christen lifts an eyebrow at the instructions, because it sounds like the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, but at this point, she’s willing to do anything Tobin asks. She wants to ask her a million questions about how she stopped her stuttering doing this but will wait if she’s gets a chance to talk to her about it later. 

“Now take a deep breath,” Tobin instructs, “tip of tongue on the top of your mouth, then exhale.” 

They do it a few times and Christen actually feels how her shoulders relax, her neck muscles free themselves from their tightness. 

“That is incredible,” she murmurs, doing it again. 

“I know, right?” Tobin agrees quietly, “So, let’s talk,” she says, staring at the ceiling, “yeah, I hate this has gone so public. But it has and there’s nothing I can do about it except ignore it. I’m not wasting anymore emotions worrying over it. What’s done is done and I’m choosing not to let it bother me. If reporters want me to speak about it, I have no comment.” 

“Okay,” Christen agrees. 

“I don’t think any less of you for being with Monica and then Monica acting how she is and attacking me. It’s not your fault and I wish you would stop letting those thoughts think I would change my mind. It won’t.” 

“Okay,” 

“I’m fully invested in having this relationship with you. I want this, Chris. I do.” She says, shifting a little on the bed, “I need to know you won’t let yourself get so worked up that something like this would happen again, I don’t know if I could go through this again. The worry, the sadness. The doubt that you’re as not serious about us as I am.” 

“I want this, Tobin,” Christen says quickly, “I want you.” She slides to her side to look down at Tobin, “I’m sorry,” she says heartfully, “I wish I could go back and stay with you. I know it was wrong, I felt shitty doing it, but I was so freaked out and scared you wouldn’t want me, I felt like I had to protect myself.”

“Chris, you have no idea how awful it felt this morning that you weren’t there when I got up,” she sniffs, turning to look at her as a tears fall from her eyes, “It really hurt. I was so worried for you,” she says, “I didn’t know what to think,” 

“I’m sorry,” Christen cries, nodding at her, “I know I hurt you, and I wish I could take it all back, I do,” she pleads, “but I can’t,” she sniffs, wiping at her eyes, “I can only ask that you trust me it won’t ever happen again,” Christen sees how Tobin’s chin is quivering, her back eyes on the ceiling, blinking back at the tears. 

“Tobin,” Christen uses her fingertips to caress Tobin’s jaw, “I don’t doubt your feelings for me, sometimes I just can’t believe you want to be with me. My feelings for you overwhelm me at times, and I think I just got scared.” She smiles gently at her, “I got scared that I think I’m falling in love with you,” 

Tobin’s heart swells hearing her say that and a soft smile spreads across her face, “I think I’m falling for you, too,” she speaks, “I really do,” she lifts her head and puckers her lips, Christen leaning in to kiss her softly. 

Tobin lies back, Christen nuzzling into her side, her hand resting on Tobin’s chest, feeling how she’s taking deep breaths. 

“I did a lot of thinking today,” Tobin says slowly and calmly, “and one of things I thought about was how I would feel if I were in your shoes,” she brings her free hand up to rub her fingers along Christen’s forearm that’s on her chest, and I know you were really freaked out about what happened and me not talking much may have led you to believe I was pissed at you,” 

“So, I thought I’d give you some scenarios that are part of my life and you can decide if you’d be able to have that as part of your life.” Tobin says, steadily looking her in the eyes.  
“You’re the first woman I’ve dated in a really long time that isn’t a soccer player, so I’m not sure you completely understand the lifestyle.”

Christen is curious as to what Tobin would think she would be concerned with as they move forward. 

“I say I’m yours and I trust you,” Tobin says, “my job requires travel and I’ll be gone for periods of time, sometimes for weeks, this year I’ll be gone for almost a month straight if I make the Olympic team. I’ll do my best to keep in touch with you, but with time zones and my job and your job, it may be tough.” 

“We might not speak for a few days, just text back and forth,” Tobin continues, “it will be hard.” 

“I understand,” Christen says, “I’ve been thinking about that too,” she’s impressed that Tobin recognizes this as one of the things she was worried about. Then she reconsiders, of course this would be on Tobin’s mind, she wants to lay all out for me to make sure I can commit to her lifestyle. 

Tobin nods, licking her lips, “When we’re gone, we go out, sight see, dinners, sometimes clubs,” Tobin shifts again, “sometimes my teammates or other people post photos on social media,” 

“I trust you,” Christen assures her, “I do, I know you wouldn’t put yourself intentionally in compromising situations.” She doesn’t want Tobin to think she might see one photo and launch into a jealous rage or anything. She does trust her. 

“I wouldn’t,” Tobin says, “there’s something else,” she frowns, just remembering this now, “preseason is rough, we have two a days and sometimes three a days,” she says, shifting a little, “I won’t be home much and when I am, I’ll probably be a zombie,” 

“It’s your job,” Christen inserts, “I understand,” 

Tobin nods, “Then in season,” she continues, “there might be some nights I have sponsor dinners or events I need to make appearances at,” Tobin says, “I’ll make sure I share my calendar with you, so you’ll always know what’s going on.”

“That’s fine,” Christen shrugs, “we could make a joint calendar so you know what I have going on,” 

Tobin turns and gives her a small grin, liking that she’s willing to do that, “Okay,” she says, shifting once more and extending her hand to grab her phone from her nightstand. 

“I want to show you something,” She says, swiping her phone and navigating to Google. She hands her phone to Christen. 

“Type in my name and Alex Morgan.” 

Christen does as told, seeing some photos of the two, “People thought for years that Alex and I were together,” Tobin explains, “they still do. Keep scrolling, find the Lchat one.” 

Christen does and opens it. “Just read one page.” Tobin suggests. 

Christen does, her forehead scrunching as she reads these comments on Tobin and Alex, photos of them together around Portland, speculating what they’re doing, where they are, what building they live in and on and on. Then she sees a photo of her and Alex paddle boarding in bikinis, hanging out somewhere tropical and the comments take a turn. Who’s on top, how kinky is Tobin in the bedroom, do they use sex toys, who takes the dick and who’s the daddy. 

“Jesus,” Christen mutters, “this is crazy,” she says as her eyes scan the page, “some of these photos are creeper level,” 

“Uh, huh,” Tobin agrees reluctantly. 

“Now go back and type in my name,” Tobin instructs, “and then add your name.” 

“Oh boy,” Christen mumbles, entering her name and exploring the results. There’s a shockingly large amount for the short time they’ve been together. 

She scans the page and clicks on the Lchat one, her mouth dropping at the photos. “This is the bar we were at,” she exclaims, “this is a video on Monica attacking you!” 

She finds the page icon and clicks on one further back in time, “This is when we were at lunch the other day,” she frowns, “what the fuck, this is from my sister’s IG page!” 

“I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to deal with this,” Tobin says, sorrow in her voice, “I wouldn’t blame you.” 

Christen looks up sharply at Tobin, seeing the sadness etched in her face, the look of dread that’s washing over her features. 

“No,” she says, flipping more on her side and laying herself half on Tobin’s body, “I want you,” she says definitively, “even if it’s means dealing with this bullshit.” 

“I don’t want you to stress out about it,” Tobin says softly, “I don’t want pictures you see of me when I’m gone coming between us,” 

“As long as you don’t have your tongue down some chick’s throat, I’ll be okay with it,” Christen states, “but,” she says, moving her hand to Tobin’s sternum, “let’s have a talk soon about how to handle things in public,” she suggests, “if we keep talking about things, before they come up, I know we’ll be okay.” 

Tobin nods. 

“Chris,” Tobin says, bringing a hand up to rub an aimless pattern on her back, “we just,” she pauses, “our lives are so different,” she says slowly, “but someone I know who’s super smart once said this to me,” she gives her a little smile, “I’m just a girl who likes you for you,” her smile widens as Christen begins to smile, “and I hope you’ll like me for me,” 

“A super smart person, huh?” Christen says, leaning closer to her.

“So, so smart,” Tobin says, her eyes shining.

“Tobin,” Christen says softly, “can I kiss you?”

Tobin’s whole face lights up, giving her that movie star smile, “Sure,” she says, puckering her lips for a kiss which Christen gladly gives her. Christen slides onto her, feeling Tobin’s arms wrap her in a hug, holding her tightly as they kiss again. 

Christen can’t help it as she begins to cry softly, her emotions getting the better of her, burying her head into Tobin’s neck. She can feel Tobin’s breath hitch beneath her, she blinks, realizing Tobin’s crying too. She sniffles as she pulls back to look down at her, seeing the tears streaking from Tobin’s eyes.

“Babe?” she questions. 

“I’m just so happy you’re here,” Tobin sniffs, rubbing Christen’s back, giving her a small smile.

Christen smiles back, tilting her head and shaking it slightly, “There’s no place I’d rather be than here,” she says, leaning down and kissing her gently, “right here in your arms. I promise, I’ll never leave you again when you need me,” 

They kiss again and then Christen rests her head on Tobin’s chest, lying silent as they just enjoy each other. 

After a few minutes, Christen lifts her head, needing another slow kiss. “I’m sorry this has all happened,” she says softly, “I promise, if I ever feel panicked or worried about something, I’ll talk to you, really talk to you,” she says, “not let my mind run off to create worst case scenarios,” 

“I promise to do my best to keep talking to you, too,” Tobin says, “I want us to always be on the same page, facing everything together,” It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell her she loves her, but something holds it back, it doesn’t seem like the right time. 

“I want to face everything with you, too,” Christen replies, looking into Tobin’ eyes, considering telling her she loves her, but feeling like it would seem weird to say it after the mess they’ve just gotten through. She’ll tell her at a better time, the right time. 

She leans in and kisses her instead. 

“So, um,” Tobin says, after they kiss, “a detective called me this afternoon,” 

“Oh?” Christen questions, sliding off her but still maintaining contact. 

“He said with the video of the whole attack being on tape from the bar, I don’t need to go to court,” Tobin explains, “I just need to go down to the station tomorrow, make a statement and sign out a complaint of the charges.” 

“Are you going to do it?” Christen asks, curious to her answer. 

“Yes,” Tobin says, looking at her closely, “that doesn’t upset you, does it?”

“No,” Christen shakes her head, “she almost killed you, this needs to stop.” 

“Good,” Tobin breathes, relieved this wouldn’t be an issue. She didn’t think it would, but there was still that sliver of doubt. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Christen offers, “I will if you want,” 

“I would appreciate it,” Tobin admits. 

Christen begins to slowly trace her fingers on Tobin’s chest, in the valley between her breasts. “So, how are you feeling? Does your head hurt?” 

“Ah,” Tobin shrugs, “no headaches or anything like that, my cheek gets tight when I smile or laugh,” she says, reaching over to rub Christen’s back, “I keep forgetting the bruise on my head and bumping it,” 

“Should I inspect you for other bruises?” Christen asks, her eyes darkening with want. 

“Could we maybe not?” Tobin asks, wincing a little, “Alex is here,” she explains meekly, “and I just,” 

“I understand,” Christen kisses her once more, “we can snuggle,” 

“Do you want to stay?” Tobin asks.

“Yes,” Christen says as she dips her head to kiss Tobin’s neck, “I want to stay,” 

“Alex will be gone in the morning,” Tobin says, her hand rubbing Christen’s back a little faster. 

“Then we’ll just wait until then,” Christen says, kissing her deeply once again and lifts her head back, “get me some clothes to sleep in, okay?” 

“Okay,” Tobin smiles, “do the dogs need to go out?” 

“No, they’re fine, I took them out before I got here,” Christen answers, sliding off Tobin and sitting up. She loves how Tobin thinks about her dogs. How she bought a mat for the dishes. It tickles her. 

“Tobin?” she calls out as Tobin leaves the bed, “Yeah?” she replies, turning to look at her. 

“Thank you for being so understanding,” she says sincerely, “you’re pretty amazing to be so patient with me.” 

Tobin steps back to the bed, kneeling on one knee to kiss her softly, then holding her gaze, “You’re worth it.” She says seriously, then smiles at her and is off once again. 

She’s at her dresser with her back to turned to Christen when she speaks, “Maybe we should keep the dogs in here,” she suggests, “so they don’t go nuts with Al in the morning,” 

“Good call,” Christen agrees, “I’ll get them.” She slides off the bed and exits the room quietly. 

 

Ten minutes later, both of the women sigh happily as they snuggle together. The dogs are lying on the foot of the bed, Christen is on her side, holding Tobin in the arms. Tobin shifts her shoulder a little more on her side, her hand squeezing Christen’s. 

“Night, Chris,” she says sleepily, “Mmmm,” she sighs, content and ecstatic that everything has worked out between them. 

She feels Christen kiss her neck, “Good night, baby,” she whispers, “I’m so happy,” she sighs, inhaling Tobin’s scent, feeling secure as she holds Tobin. 

 

 

XXXX

 

December 7, 2015 

Day 38 

 

“Tobin,” Christen whispers in her ear, “I smell bacon,” she sniffs the air again, “and coffee,” 

Christen is awake and the smell of food cooking is making her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten at all yesterday, feeling nauseous and listless, so now she feels she could chew off her arm. 

“Go to sleep,” Tobin moans tiredly, not wanting Christen to stop holding her. 

“I’m starving,” Christen whines, “get up so we can eat,” 

“I’m tired,” Tobin whines back, “go eat yourself,” 

“I can’t!” Christen exclaims in a whisper, “I can’t face Alex,” 

“Yes, you can.” Tobin says, rolling over out of her arms, onto her stomach, her head turned away from her, “Either sleep or eat, your choice,” she says, pulling the comforter over her shoulder. 

Christen’s stomach loudly rumbles, making Tobin grin to herself. 

I should get up and let the dogs out, Christen considers, I wonder if Tobin has some food here for them still. She should, we bought that bag last week. I swear to God I smell bacon. Christen growls as she flips the covers and slides out of bed. She thinks she hears Tobin chuckle softly as she heads to the bathroom. 

Tobin feels the dogs get up when Christen exits the bathroom, “Save me some,” she says, still grinning, buried under the comforter. 

“Snooze you lose,” Christen chuckles, feeling that maybe this won’t be an awful thing to face Alex. 

When she opens the door, the dogs tear out, running from the room. Tobin can hear Alex. 

“Puppies!” she exclaims, undoubtedly kneeling to greet them. She loves dogs and wants one so badly. Her and Tobin bickered over it many times, finally agreeing their schedules wouldn’t be fair to the dog. 

Christen straightens her shoulders, determined to stand strong and take whatever Alex has to dish out to her. She deserves whatever Alex may unleash on her for her awful behavior. 

“Good morning,” Alex greets quietly with a small smile as she stands up from the dogs move to the water dish, who are taking a drink and looking around expectantly. 

“Good morning,” Christen nods, “uh, do you mind if I look for the dog food?” 

“I think I saw it under the sink,” Alex offers, “would you like some coffee and something to eat?” She bends down and retrieves the dog food. 

“I’ll take some coffee,” Christen replies, a little unnerved at how nice she is being to her, “I can make it,” she says as she takes the Tupperware container holding the dog food from  
Alex, “thanks.” 

“I’m cooking all of the bacon, I’m almost done,” Alex says, “it’ll take a minute to make some eggs,” she sees Christen look unsure, “come on,” she gives her a friendly smile, “don’t make me eat alone, I hate it.” 

“Okay,” Christen agrees, walking over to fill the food bowl. 

She puts the container back under the sink, “Can I do anything?” 

“Get the eggs?” Alex offers, flipping the bacon with a pair of tongs. 

Christen spins and opens the fridge, reaching in to grab the egg carton and set it on the island counter. 

“Thanks,” Alex says. Christen notices that she’s dressed for training in a dry fit top and joggers, her gym shoes on. She’s glad Tobin gave her a long sleeved shirt and sweats. 

Christen busies herself making her cup of coffee. 

“You and Tobin straighten things out between yourselves?” Alex questions evenly, eying the bacon in the pan. 

“Yes, we did last night,” Christen replies quietly. 

“Good,” Alex gives her a quick grin, “I’m glad, Christen,” she says sincerely, “Tobin’s crazy about you and it was very hard to watch her be so upset,” she says, moving a piece of bacon in the pan, “I get why you acted like you did,” she glances at her again, “I get it, with the whole stalker thing, how you felt, I know, I’ve been there.” 

Christen doesn’t know what to say, she picks up the spoon and stirs her coffee again. 

“I’m not mad at you, Christen,” Alex says softly, Christen looking at her sharply, “It was a shitty situation,” Alex says honestly, “and I’m really glad you two got through it and are good now.” 

“Thanks,” Christen says, dropping her eyes on her coffee again. 

“How’d you like your eggs?” Alex asks, “I suck at over easy, just a warning.” 

“However you make them is fine,” Christen looks up, feeling a little more comfortable with Alex now. She knows Alex is really trying to make her feel welcome. 

“Scrambled?” 

“Cool,” Christen nods, “I can get a bowl,” she offers, going to the cabinet where she knows the bowls are and bringing it back. 

“The girl knows her way around the kitchen, nice,” she smirks, her eyes amused as she removes the last of the bacon and sets it on the paper towel with the other pieces. 

Christen blushes slightly from the teasing, but decides to let it pass, “Do you want some cheese and veggies in the eggs?” 

“Really? Yes, add whatever you want.” Alex says excitedly, “Tobin just likes them plain most of the time, but she’ll eat anything, I swear,” Alex grins at her, glad Christen is relaxing more. 

Christen starts to rinse a green pepper she found in the fridge. She gets out the cutting board and pulls a knife from the block. 

“You know,” Alex says, leaning up against the counter, watching Christen slice the pepper, “best friend obligation is for me to threaten you if you hurt Tobin again,” she says mildly, Christen looking up at her, wide eyed and startled. 

Alex shakes her head, grinning slightly at her, “Don’t worry,” she waves a hand at her, “it’s not gonna happen,” she says confidently, “I can tell already,” 

Christen stops the knife in her hand and eyes her with a confused look. 

“I know you’re an extremely smart woman, Christen,” Alex states, “and if anything, you learn from your past experiences,” Alex smirks a little, "and I don't say that because you have a knife in your hands." 

Christen notes appreciatively that Alex didn’t categorize what happened overnight between her and Tobin as a mistake. 

“She’s getting more famous, more recognized for her amazing talent,” Alex nods, “and with that will come some hardships, some sacrifices,” she continues, “don’t you worry though,” she gives her a small smile, “it won’t change Tobin. She’s the most authentic person I know.” She quirks her mouth, “Who knows how I would be with all the interviews, and endorsements and money being tossed at me if she wasn’t here to keep me grounded.” She shakes her head, “I can tell,” she gives her a full on smile, “you’ll be the one keeping her grounded.” 

Christen bites on her lower lip, considering what Alex has just said, “But I don’t even know that world,” she shakes her head, “I don’t know what it’s like to be a professional athlete,” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex states firmly, “you know her. Just from last night, I could tell you’re good for her,” she says emphatically, “you look at her like I look at my Servando,” 

Christen looks down at the counter, “I don’t know how she could forgive me for last night,” she murmurs, “I acted so horribly,” 

“Because you’re worth it,” Alex replies immediately, sounding so sure of herself, that it gives Christen pause. Tobin said the very same thing to her last night. 

“Just because you…fumbled this thing with Monica doesn’t make you an awful person,” Alex assures her, “I just get the sense you’ll learn from it,” she says, shrugging, “it’ll make you handle anything else much better.” 

“I hope so,” Christen breathes out, “and I certainly hope nothing like this ever happens again.” 

Alex shrugs and sips her coffee, “Maybe not Tobin getting her head cracked open,” she smiles sadly, “but you can count on other things, little things, things that just start out as bothering you. But if you two talk it out, you’ll be fine.” She gives Christen a head shake and a sad smile, “Not gonna lie, this life we have, being pro athletes, there’s a lot of sacrifices, but as long as you have someone by your side to support and understand you, someone that can talk things out with, it’ll be worth it. For both of you.” 

Alex is looking at the cabinets, her eyes unfocused, a frown on her face. 

“What?” Christen asks. 

Alex turns and gives her a sad smile, “Tobin’s going to have an amazing year, she’s gonna be unreal, I can just feel it,” she looks around the kitchen and frowns, “I’m just sad I’m not going to be here to experience it with her.” 

“Why? Where are you going?” Christen questions. Alex explains her upcoming trade and then scenarios involved with it. 

“Is there a chance Tobin can get traded?” Christen asks, tensing up, her back straightening. 

Alex waves her off, “She’s got a handshake deal to be a Thorn forever,” she replies, then points to her chest with her thumb, “I didn’t get that offer,” she nods at Christen. 

“Oh,” Christen nods slowly. 

“She’s everything Portland is,” Alex continues, “she’s so cool and laid back, the skateboarding chick, the artist, the go against the grain, drink tea in a coffee town,” she smiles and Christen can see the love Alex has for Tobin in her eyes, “she’s keep Portland Weird.” 

“In the best way,” Christen adds, smiling at Alex. 

“Exactly,” Alex says, draining her mug and turning to the coffee maker for get another one. 

Alex nods to the peppers, “Those ready to go?” she questions. 

“One more minute,” Christen says, lifting the knife and cutting again. 

“She’s not that big into weird seafood,” Alex states as she wipes out the bacon grease with a few paper towels in the tongs, “definitely not calamari if she can avoid it,” she elbows Christen lightly, “unless she’s in a survival situation.” 

“Noted,” Christen grins, feeling her nerves settle down even more, “if you’re in such a sharing mood,” she says, finishing dicing the pepper, “care to share any of her actual favorite meals?” 

Alex arches an eyebrow at her with a grin on her face, “always have apples in the house, she prefers Fiji, PB and J when she’s hurt or hangry, strawberry jelly,” she notes, “a plain cheeseburger with bacon when we win or lose, swiss cheese,” she nods at her, Christen nodding along, “ribeye steak, medium rare with a double baked potato and carrots when it’s kind of special, and to persuade her to do something for you, sour patch gummy bears.” 

Christen nods and she finishes dicing the pepper, “And a traditional breakfast when she’s homesick,” 

Alex stops her arm from bringing her mug to her lips, “How do you know that?” 

Christen shrugs, “Came up in conversation one time,” 

“Oh,” Alex says, now taking a sip of her coffee, “good,” 

“Yeah,” Christen smiles as she takes the clean pan and sets it on the burner near her, then starts cracking the eggs, adding some grated cheese and dumping them into the bowl. She grabs the whisk and starts whisking away. 

“You like to cook, huh?” Alex observes as Christen heats the pan and then pours in the eggs and peppers. 

“Uh huh,” Christen replies, stirring it around, “love it,” 

“Nice,” Alex bends down to pet Morena, “what are your dogs’ names?” 

That begins a discussion about dogs, Alex lamenting how badly she wants one and hopes when she moves she can persuade Servando into it. 

“This is ready,” Christen announces, turning off the burner and moving the pan to the other side. 

The two make their plates, sitting down across from each other, chatting about Christen’s school, the classes she teaches and how she’s free until the next semester begins.  
Christen questions Alex about the travel, the down time, how she and Servando manage a long distance relationship. 

The two quickly become more comfortable with one another, discussing shopping, Alex sharing how Tobin’s not into it as much, she’s more of a list maker and orders online. Alex shares with Christen how shy Tobin can get until she’s comfortable with her surroundings, how she doesn’t like the spotlight on her for her achievements, how her faith is deep rooted yet she’s not into preaching, preferring to live by example. 

When Tobin finally enters the hallway, the dogs scramble up and run to greet her, Tobin kneeling to pet them and receive their sloppy kisses. She wipes her face with her sleeve as she approaches, issuing a good morning greeting to them both. 

She gives Christen a quick kiss on the cheek as she passes, going straight to the coffeemaker for some hot water and fishing a tea bag from a tin in the cabinet. “Anyone need a refill?” she turns and asks, looking at them. 

“I’m good,” Alex says, “I’ll take a water though,” 

Tobin tosses her a bottle from the fridge, Alex easily catching it. 

Tobin grabs a piece of bacon as she stands near the counter, chomping it down. She gets two eggs out and sets them on the counter, turning on the burner and heating the pan. 

“I can make them for you, babe,” Christen offers.

“You’re still eating,” Tobin grins at her, “thanks though, it’ll take just a minute.” 

Tobin fries her two eggs quickly, flipping them on her plate and snakes out two more pieces of bacon. She grabs a fork and tosses some salt and pepper on her eggs, reaching for a paper towel as a napkin and her mug of tea as she walks over to sit down at the table. 

“Tobin,” Alex says as she eats, “you have to try these eggs Christen made,”

“You made eggs?” Tobin looks over at Christen, bumping her elbow. She nods, lifting her fork to her mouth. 

Tobin nods as she chews, then points a finger at Alex, “You set me up,” she says, her lip curling in a smirk, “you’re a jerk,” 

Alex smiles sweetly at her, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says as she takes another forkful. 

Christen, realizing what’s going on, decides to join in the fun, “How do you like them, honey?” she asks sweetly, looking up at her from underneath her batting eyelashes. 

“They’re pretty good,” Tobin replies diplomatically, “I’m more of a plain egg person, but these are a tasty change of pace,” she ignores how Alex and Christen both chuckle, instead diving into her food. She’s hungry, bordering on hangry. She laid in bed, wide awake, ears straining to hear the conversation between Alex and Christen. She knew it would be fine, she knew Alex would do everything she could to make Christen feel comfortable. She’s an amazing person like that. And the fact that Alex also dealt with stalker issues, she knew she could offer a good perspective and sound advice if asked. 

Alex looks at her phone, “Ooh, I got to get moving,” she says, pushing her chair back.

“I’ll get your dishes, just go,” Tobin offers, “thanks for making the bacon, too.” 

“You bet,” Alex replies, “I’ll see you guys later, maybe,” she says, “have a great day,” she says cheerily, taking her water bottle and heading down the hallway. 

Christen stands up, taking Alex’s plate as she brings over her coffee mug to make another cup. She comes back to the table a moment later, bumping her shoulder with Tobin. 

“Good morning,” she smiles at her. 

“Good morning,” Tobin replies, smiling as well. 

“Can I have a morning kiss?” Christen asks, leaning over. 

“Of course,” Tobin lifts her head and kisses her softly. Christen pushing forward to lengthen it. 

“Bye lovebirds!” Alex calls from the doorway, opening it and shutting it behind herself. 

Christen and Tobin both chuckle as they break from their kiss. 

“She’s something else,” Tobin says as she directs her attention back to her plate. 

“You’ve got that right,” Christen agrees, Tobin turns sharply to look at her, “She didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did she?” 

“No,” Christen shakes her head, “she was pretty awesome,” she says, “she’s a really nice person, Tobin.” 

“I’m glad,” Tobin says, “she is,” she says, “I wouldn’t have slept in if I didn’t know you would be okay coming out here on your own, you know,” 

“I suspected as much,” Christen blows over her hot coffee, “but I still was a little nervous.” 

“Sorry,” Tobin says with a full mouth, chewing rapidly, “I didn’t think it would be too bad.” 

“It wasn’t sweetie,” Christen runs her hand along Tobin’s arm, “She was fine, really,” she assures her, “we had a good chat. I could learn a lot from her.” 

“Good,” Tobin grins, going back to eating. 

“Yeah,” Christen smiles to herself, “we talked mostly about you,” 

Tobin raises her eyebrows as she chews, turning her head and then narrowing her eyes at her, trying to look mad. 

Christen laughs, “Don’t worry, babe.” 

Tobin just shakes her head as she eats. 

“You don’t have to go in today?” Christen asks her, leaning back on her chair. 

“No,” Tobin says, her plate now clean, she wipes her mouth with the paper towel, “I go in on Wednesday.” She leans back in her chair as well. 

“What are your plans for the day?” Christen asks, curious what Tobin would want to do if she doesn’t have training. 

“Well,” Tobin looks at her slyly, “I would like to take a shower,” she says, “if you’d like to join me, that would be cool,” she says, turning her torso to face her, her brown eyes smoldering, her hand coming out to touch Christen’s upper arm, “and then, I would like to go to bed with you.” 

Christen swallows hard as she sees the desire in Tobin’s eyes, feeling a stirring her lower belly, a heat rising between her legs. How can she make me wet by just saying she wants to sleep with me, she wonders. 

“Would you like to join me?” Tobin questions, leaning close to kiss her. 

Christen leans in, reaching around and grasping the back of Tobin’s head, bringing her close and holding her there as she kisses her hard. Tobin’s hands skim along Christen’s back, moaning softly into her mouth as Christen raises a hand to grasp her breast. 

A loud bark interrupts them, both turning to see Kahleesi and Morena circling around near the door, wagging their tails. 

“Oh, I should take them out,” Christen breathes out, head forehead meeting Tobin’s, her hand still lingering on her breast. 

“I’ll go with you,” Tobin offers, “I’ll get a couple of plastic bags.” She steps back and they give each other grins.

“Twat blocked by the dogs,” Christen shakes her head and chuckles.

“Al won’t be back until around three,” Tobin says over her shoulder, “I want to be naked with you until two forty-five.” 

“Tobin, it’s not even eight-thirty!” Christen exclaims, smiling. 

Tobin’s head pops up from behind the island where she grabbed the plastics bags from under the sink, “Oh, I know,” she winks at her. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Christen says, grinning and walking to the hallway, petting Morena who runs up to her. 

 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say thank you isn't enough for the wonderful, positive comments you've all left. If you haven't written a story here and received such warm, supportive messages, you just can't understand how much of a difference it makes. 
> 
> When you decide to write one of these tales, it's a risk. A huge risk. You risk putting yourself out there and sometimes, what people may believe is constructive criticism doesn't always come across as being super constructive, instead being rather...harsh. 
> 
> So, to have a group of people who are so invested in your story, so involved with the plot- it blows me away that you share those uplifting comments. 
> 
> Please now that I am deeply touched by your words. 
> 
>  
> 
> Things are coming to a close, I've seen the comments about a sequel. Some ideas are rattling around, I can assure you. 
> 
> Another idea has taken precedence over that right now, a story about love, betrayal, and the actions of a person entering madness and how they affect others. It's not super fun, there's probably going to be a ton of angst and suffering, but there will be a happy ending. 
> 
> I'll give more details with the last chapter, to gauge your interest. 
> 
> Again, my thanks to you all.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and if you're ever stressed out, try the breathing thing with the tip of the tongue- it works.


	26. Rosie's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after, Tobin and Christen visit the Police Station, Tobin making her statement of what occurred and signing off the charges. They do lunch and then meet later to go to dinner at a destination Tobin has chosen.  
> The evening is fun, just what the couple needs, although Tobin ends up getting drunk off her ass.
> 
>  
> 
> Please note: I fucked up the formatting part way through this and tried to fix it a few times. It's super late and I don't want to make you wait until another day. I'll fix it later. MT

.

 

December 7, 2015 

Day 38 

 

 

“That wasn’t bad,” Tobin says as her and Christen leave the Police Station. After spending the morning in bed having some amazing sex, the two showered, then decided to head to  
the Police Station. 

Tobin had met with the detective, wrote out her statement and signed off on the charges. The detective explained that she would be notified of the court dates but most likely not be summoned to appear. Her lawyer could represent her without her being there. With the video evidence, the prosecution would push for a bench trial as opposed to one by jury. 

“Seems pretty open and shut,” Christen agrees, unlocking her car doors.

“I hope so,” Tobin mumbles, setting the paperwork on the dashboard as she buckles up. Then she holds them in her hand. 

“Lunch?” Christen questions, looking over at her. 

“Anywhere,” Tobin replies. 

Christen nods, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. 

 

“When I said anywhere,” Tobin says, sipping on her fruit smoothie, “this was not what I thought you had in mind,” she grins over at Christen. 

Christen turns, chewing on her taco, arching an eyebrow at her. She swallows and takes a sip of her soda, “I just figured it would be a good idea to keep a low profile today,” 

Tobin nods, “I appreciate that,” she says slowly, “but I would like to take you to dinner tonight if you’re free,” 

Christen nods as she takes another bite, growling as some lettuce falls out onto her sweatshirt. They’re sitting in her car in the parking lot of the dog park along the river. The dogs are sleeping in the backseat. 

Christen mentioned Mexican and Tobin readily agreed, feeling that some fish tacos would be good. It was too cold to eat outside, so they sat in the car, feeling the sun through the windshield. They would take the dogs out to run around after. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Christen asks seriously, “no headache or anything?” 

Tobin shakes her head, “I’m fine,” she assures her, “no headaches, just that stupid bump I keep forgetting about.” 

“You were super lucky not to have a bad concussion,” Christen states, quirking her mouth, “it could have been so much worse.” 

“I know, right?” Tobin says, taking a sip of her iced tea, “but honestly, I feel fine, just that stupid bruise, that’s all. So, dinner tonight?” 

“If you’re sure,” Christen hedges, “I mean, after what just happened…” she trails off. 

“I know,” Tobin nods, “but I know the perfect place and nobody will bother us,” she says confidently. 

“Okay then,” Christen smiles, “what time?” 

“How about six o’clock and jeans and hoodie casual?” Tobin replies, wanting her to know what the level of dressing up tonight will be. 

“I can do that,” Christen grins, “I can’t wait.” 

 

 

XXXX

Christen dropped off Tobin at her place, both of them needing to do a few things before their evening. 

Christen spent some time of the phone, texting and checking in with everyone who was with them the night of the attack, letting them know Tobin was doing okay. 

She caught Ali in between her classes, who called her. 

“Chris, I was so worried!” Ali exclaims, “How are you doing? I talked to Jen and she told me you were worried Tobin would be upset with you?” 

“Yeah,” Christen says, feeling very embarrassed, “I was over reacting,” she admits, “Tobin was so worried about how I was, she’s been terrific through this.” 

“I’m glad,” Ali states, “she really hasn’t changed since when I was in camp with her all those years ago,” she says, “very level headed and humble.”

“She was super sweet about everything,” Christen says, “even though she was hurting, she was more concerned about me.”

“So, what’s going on with Monica?” Ali asks, “Is she still in jail?” 

Christen proceeds to tell her about visiting the police station and updating her on what they found out. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Yeah, Mom,” Tobin says, “that’s exactly what my lawyer told me,”

“Did you send Michael all of the paperwork?” Cindy asks, mentioning her agent. 

“I’m scanning it now,” Tobin says, sitting at the small nook in the kitchen where her and Alex have a little office type thing set up. 

“You make sure he gets you a good criminal attorney,” Cindy states, “you don’t want this girl to keep bothering the two of you,” 

“I know, Mom,” Tobin says quietly, “Michael and Liz are both on it,” Liz is the head of security with the Thorns. 

“Alright,” Cindy says, satisfied Tobin isn’t looking through a phonebook or something to find proper representation. 

“Honey, how are you doing? Do you still get headaches? Do you need to get checked out? Are you sleeping okay?” Her Mom questions. 

“So far, I’m fine,” Tobin answers, “the worst thing is I keep forgetting I have a bump on my head and keep hitting it on accident.” 

“Well, you just take it easy,” Cindy advises, “follow your doctor’s orders, you hear?” 

“I will, Mom,” Tobin says as she scans another sheet of paper, “I don’t want to jeopardize my season,” 

They change the subject and Cindy catches her up on family, Tobin pulling out her family notebook and scribbling down dates to remember and cards she should send out fir  
upcoming birthdays and anniversaries. They end the call about forty minutes later. 

Dawn Scott calls Tobin just as she was going to her room to nap, getting in bed as she answers the phone. 

“Hey Dawn,” she smiles, Dawn is the head of fitness for the National Team and a great person. 

“How are you Tobin?” she inquires with her British accent. 

“I’m doing okay,” Tobin says, pulling her comforter up, “just taking it easy,” 

“How’s your head?” 

“Good,” Tobin replies, “no headaches, just a bump, no vision issues,” 

“Excellent,” Dawn replies, “and how’s inside your head?” 

“It’s kind of all over the place,” she admits, “I don’t think I’ve had time to really process what exactly happened,” 

“Um hum,” Dawn says sympathetically, “well, it did just happen,” 

“I think when I go back for training on Wednesday, I’m going to see if Stephanie has some time to talk,” Tobin states, “if not, I’ll set something up with her,” Stephanie is the Thorns  
team psychologist. 

“I’m glad you have a plan to reach out to someone,” Dawn says quietly, “not try to work through this alone,” 

Tobin can hear Alex coming in from training in the hallway. 

“Yeah,” she says, “I think this is too big for me alone,” she admits. 

“You know I’m only a phone call away,” Dawn states, “me or Jill, any time, day or night.” 

“Thanks,” Tobin says, her eyes welling with tears, “I appreciate it,” 

“You should probably take a nap,” Dawn advises, how she knows when Tobin is tired continually amazes her. 

Tobin chuckles, giving Alex a wave, she’s peeking in her doorway, “I’m in bed right now,” 

Dawn chuckles with her, “Alright then, I’ll let you go,” 

“Thanks for everything, Dawn,” Tobin says sincerely and they end the call. 

“You just waking up or going to sleep?” Alex looks at her expectantly. 

“Just going down,” Tobin replies, setting her phone on her nightstand. 

“Good,” Alex nods, kicking off her slides and unzipping her jacket as she enters Tobin’s room. She tosses her jacket on the floor, lifts the covers and slides in next to her. 

“How ya doing?” she says quietly. 

“Decent,” Tobin replies. 

The two catch up, with Tobin explaining her morning at the police department and how she’s feeling. They talk quietly for a while, both getting sleepy, Alex twisting and spooning  
Tobin as they drift off. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Tobin, I trust you, but this looks super sketchy,” Christen says worriedly as Tobin pulls into the parking lot of a building in an industrial site. There are some particularly ratty cars,  
a few motorcycles even though there is a threat of freezing temperatures tonight and the front of the place is dimly lit. Christen sees a faded sign over the door that reads Rosie’s. 

“Don’t worry,” Tobin flashes her a grin, “it’s cool.” She opens her door and gets out of her car. 

“Oh boy,” Christen mutters under her breath, then she opens her door and shoulders herself out. 

Tobin meets her on her side, taking her hand and leading her to the door, entering into a small foyer that has all sorts of event posters plastered to the walls and the inner door as  
well. There’s a change machine that Tobin stops in front of. 

“Hang on,” she says, pulling out her wallet and slipping a ten dollar bill into the machine. The quarters clang as they come down the chute, Tobin carefully collecting half of them in  
her hand and then distributing them in the front pockets her jeans. 

“What’s that for?” Christen questions, “Here, I can take some, you look ridiculous,” 

Tobin grins and hands over the rest to Christen who pockets them. 

“For later,” Tobin says casually, flashing another grin, like she knows something Christen doesn’t. 

“Okay,” Christen nods, “I have no clue what this place is and what we’re doing,” she states, “but I am going with the flow,” she announces with a grin, “I am laid back, not a care in the world Christen tonight,” she declares. 

“Wonderful!” Tobin exclaims, hugging her and then kissing her softly, “I think you’re gonna love this,” she says, taking her hand once more and putting her other one on the crossbar of the inner door, “I predict this will be your new favorite place.” 

“Is that right?” Christen smiles, “Let’s go!” 

Tobin nods and pushes the door open, revealing a somewhat dark interior. There’s tables and chairs scattered all in the middle, a few people drinking and eating. It’s a Monday night, so it’s not that busy. Christen spies some TVs hanging overhead, showing cartoons from when she was a little kid. A few TVs have soccer games on. She feels Tobin guide her to the left, content to trail behind and take in her surroundings. Posters from movies and Tv shows are plastered on the wall, artwork and graffiti side by side. 

“Yo, Rosie!” Tobin calls out, she’s leaning up against the bar. 

“Tobin!” A very large, maybe six foot tall woman with a purple mohawk approaches, stopping about ten feet away so she can jump over the bar and give Tobin a hug and kissing her cheek.

“You good?” she eyes Tobin critically, looking her over. 

“I’m good,” Tobin smiles, “banged up but not broken.” 

“Fucking awesome!” this behemoth replies, turning to Christen, looking her over. 

“This is Christen,” Tobin introduces, “Chris, this is Rosie, this is her place,” 

“Nice to meet-” Christen doesn’t finish as she is smashed into a hug, her face buried in the woman’s chest, her arms at her sides and she feels a little helpless, hearing Tobin chuckle next to her. 

“Yo, Ro, let her breathe,” Tobin laughs, slipping her arm around Christen’s waist when she stumbles back. 

“Sorry,” Rosie apologizes, “Tobin’s told me so much about you, I’m just so happy to meet you,” 

“Oh?” Christen questions, glancing over at Tobin who’s smiling like an idiot. 

“Rosie is my cousin,” Tobin explains, “she helps keep Portland weird.” 

“Hey,” Rosie barks, issuing a not so soft punch to Tobin’s bicep.

“Hey,” Tobin recoils, rubbing her arm.

“Be nice,” Rosie eyes her, then looks at Christen, “She can be such a dork,” she says, “I wanted to open up a place where people could hang out and have a good time,” she explains, “back east, they’re too stuffy, not fun enough, so I came out here.” 

“Ro went to chef school,” Tobin explains, “the food here is amazing,”

“I can’t wait to see the menu!” Christen smiles, relaxing now knowing that this place isn’t as seedy as it looks. 

“Go sit and I’ll have Jeannie come out and take care of you,” Rosie instructs, shooing them off, “what do you want to drink? Tobin, you want your special cocktail?

“That would be awesome, Ro!” Tobin smiles, turning to Christen, “It’s like this awesome fruit punch with some booze in it.” 

“You want it leaded or unleaded?” Rosie asks. 

“Leaded,” Tobin nods, “you want one Chris?” 

“Sure,” she shrugs, grinning, “leaded.” 

A smile spreads across Rosie’s face, “Atta girl,” she says, easily hopping over the bar, “I’ll have Jeanie bring them to you.” 

Tobin looks at Christen, a soft smile on her face, “Wanna pick where you’d like to sit?” she offers, extending her hand out forward. Christen looks around, evaluating her options, she points, “Over there,” she says, stepping forward, feeling Tobin’s hand find the small of her back as she strides to a corner table. 

Tobin pulls her chair out for her, pushing it in as she sits. “Thank you,” Christen smiles at her as Tobin takes the seat across from her. 

Christen looks around as she sheds her coat, the wall next to them is filled with photos from old TV shows and movies. 

“This place is wild,” she comments taking the menu Tobin has handed her. 

“So, I don’t know about you,” Tobin says, coat already off and hanging on the chair next to her, opening her menu, “but I’m in the mood for some seafood,” 

“Yeah?” Christen questions, looking down at the menu, finding the seafood options. “They have peel and eat shrimp, ooh, a shrimp boil!” 

“Yeah,” Tobin grins, “that’s what I was thinking,” 

“Okay, you want to get the two person one?” Christen asks, seeing Tobin nod. She looks at the menu, “Okay, so we can choose the seasonings,” she murmurs, “hum, lemon pepper, garlic pepper or crazy Cajun.” She looks up at Tobin who is smiling as she looks around the restaurant, “What seasoning do want, babe?” 

“The trifecta,” Tobin grins, “all of them,” 

Christen raises her eyebrows, “The Cajun isn’t super spicy, is it?” 

“You can tell them how spicy you want it,” Tobin informs her. 

“Medium?” Christen offers. Tobin nods, “That’s what I usually get,” she replies. 

“Sounds great,” Christen smiles, closing her menu. 

“Hi Tobin!” A woman greets, approaching the table, “How are you, hon?” 

“I’m good, Jeannie, thanks,” Tobin replies, taking her drink, “Jeannie, this is Christen,” 

“Nice to meet you Christen,” Jeannie smiles, she’s an older woman, Christen estimates near her own parents’ age. 

“You too,” She replies with a smile. 

“What can I get you?” Jeannie asks, looking between them.

“I think we’re gonna do the shrimp boil for two, trifecta, medium,” Tobin replies, looking at Christen who nods along. “And can I get a Dixie beer when it comes out?” 

“Sure,” Jeannie smiles, turning to Christen, “would you like a beer with the shrimp?” 

“Yeah,” Christen decides spur of the moment, she glances at Tobin, “what’s a Dixie beer like? Light?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty mild,” she answers, shrugging. 

“I’ll have one of those,” she smiles at Jeannie. 

“Perfect,” Jeannie nods, “I’ll get this in,” turning and leaving the table. 

Christen continues to look around, fascinated by the décor and the what’s showing on the TVs. “How long has this place been around?” 

“Two years ago,” Tobin replies, “it’s kind of become a place that a lot of the Thorns hang out,” she says, “Rosie doesn’t put up with anyone bugging us,” 

“So, you guys come here to let loose?” Christen asks, “Not be in the public eye?” 

Tobin nods, sipping her drink, “Yeah,” she says, “we do some private parties in back, just chill,” 

Christen nods thoughtfully, “It’s nice you have a place like this,” she says quietly, still not used to Tobin’s life being so different than hers. Her ability to be anonymous, go anywhere and do what she wants, not have people coming up to her, asking for autographs or a photo. 

“Yeah,” Tobin breathes out, smiling absentmindedly as she looks around, then looking at her, “did you play video games as a kid?” 

Christen straightens in her seat, not expecting the random question. “Yeah,” she grins, “I was in love with Pac Man.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin asks, sipping her drink, “How do like your drink?” 

“Really fruity,” Christen comments, taking another sip. 

Tobin barks out a laugh, “I guess it’s perfect then,” 

Christen chuckles at her, “You’re a nut,” 

“So, Pac Man,” Tobin says, “you play other stuff? Like go to arcades?” 

Christen considers it, nodding, “We had a huge arcade by our house growing up,” she says, smiling at the memory, “I had a bunch of birthday parties there,” 

She sees Tobin smiling at her, “Yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” Christen grins, “they had this big drum that they would beat to sing Happy Birthday and this like cauldron of ice cream that everyone would just dig into to eat.” She tilts her head, “Now that I think of it, it’s kind of disgusting, all those flavors, everyone’s spoons in there,” she shivers. 

“What else did you play?” Tobin prods, leaning forward, her drink nearly gone. 

“Well,” Christen thinks, “I was the air hockey and ping pong champ on my floor in college.” 

“Competitive much?” Tobin chuckles. 

“ _Sooo,_ competitive,” Christen nods. “Not in typical sports, though I love them, I’m just not that coordinated. I love to run though,” 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I FUCKED THIS PART UP WITH THE FORMATTING AND IT'S LATE SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND I'LL FIX IT LATER.** _“Yeah?” Tobin’s eyebrows shoot up, “We should run together,” she suggests._

_“That would be fun,” Christen grins at her, “although I don’t run much in weather like this,”_

_Tobin shakes her head, “Me either,” she agrees, “too dangerous, too slippery.”_

_“I do go to the gym, hit the treadmill, though,” Christen nods, “although I haven’t run since October.”_

_“How far do you usually go?”_

_“About eight or ten miles,” Christen replies, “I suppose you do twenty,”_

_Tobin shakes her head, “I usually run about that far, eight to ten,” she says, “I don’t run in season usually,”_

_“I suppose not,” Christen nods, sipping her drink, “got to carefully balance your work rate.”_

_“Yeah,” Tobin acknowledges as she reaches for her napkin, unrolling it and setting her silverware on the table, “I do ride my bike or skateboard,”_

_“I bike too,” Christen lights up, “there’s a great trail not far from my house,”_

_“We should do it,” Tobin says._

_Christen nods, “You know, I was wondering something,”_

_“What’s that?” Tobin leans forward._

_“What does game day look like for you?” Christen asks, “I’ve always wondered how early the teams arrive and what they do before they come out for warmup.”_

_“Well,” Tobin says, fiddling with her napkin, “If the match is at like, seven,” she begins “I usually sleep in, have a late breakfast, then chill on the couch,”_

_“All day?”_

_Tobin nods, “It’s my hard chill,” she says, “I don’t do much of anything but like, watch TV, read, nap, maybe sometimes I paint, but I don’t go out or anything.”_

_“Huh,” Christen says, moving her hand under her chin and leaning on the table, her head tilted at her, “do you do that alone? Like is that your thing to get you in the zone?”_

_“Nah,” Tobin shakes her head, “Alex will hang for a while, but she likes to shop, browse around a bit to get her nerves out. Stress shop, I tease her,” she says, “but, like, if you  
wanted to chill with me, that would be cool,” _

_“No sex,” Christen states._

_“Well, actually,” Tobin grins, blushing a little, “uh, I never tried that before, but if you’re willing…”_

_Feeling a little tipsy from her potent drink, it’s hitting her quickly, “Well, how about we experiment on one of your preseason matches? See how that works out?” she gives her a seductive look, “I would do all the work,” she continues, leaning forward, her voice low and sultry, “have you ever been tied up, Tobin?”_

_Tobin’s eyes go wide, gulping, “No,” she breathes, mesmerized by Christen’s darkening eyes, how the colors are changing from the grey to a greenish and growing darker, sharper._

_“Would you like me to tie you up and have my way with you?” Christen asks, her voice still low and quiet, licking her lips as she looks at her._

_“Very much,” Tobin nods, bobbing her head, swallowing audibly, “that would be amazing,” she whispers._

_“Hey, you two,” Jeannie calls from three tables away, carrying a large serving tray, “food’s here,” she announces, Tobin and Christen quickly leaning back, Christen smirking at a clearly turned on Tobin._

_“Thanks,” Tobin says, swallowing again and reaching for the beer Jeannie has just set down, taking long chugs, nearly swallowing a third of it._

_Christen giggles, “This looks great, Jeannie,” she says as she moves her plate in front of herself._

_Jeannie sets down a large clear plastic bag filled with shrimp, small red potatoes and half pieces of corn on the cob. Then she places a large stainless steel bowl on the table along with plastic bibs, packets of hand wipes and a stack of extra napkins._

_“Let me know if you need anything else, girls,” she says affectionately, walking away._

_“This looks amazing,” Tobin comments as she opens the bag, carefully pulling the top over to expose all the steamy goodness. She looks at Christen, “You can’t talk like that anymore,” she says, trying to look mad but her frown has the corners of her mouth turned up._

_“It is fun to rile you up,” Christen chuckles, tying her bib on, “this smells amazing,” she comments, using her fork to pick out some shrimp. Tobin just uses her fingers._

_“You know what else I’ve always wondered?” Christen asks as she begins to peel a piece of shrimp._

_“What’s that?” Tobin glances up from her peeling her shrimp._

_“How did you feel after the Championship match? You were beat to hell,”_

_“Mmmm,” Tobin hums as she chews, then swallows, “I felt like crap,” she says, peeling another shrimp, “but so happy we won,” pausing before she eats her food, “I could hardly move the next morning, but I went in for recovery, stretched real good, did an ice bath and got a massage. I took a couple of Tylenol and felt pretty decent. Not gonna lie, I ate a few edibles and slept most of the rest of the day.”_

_XXXX_

_“I’m gonna hafta leave my car,” Tobin chuckles as she sets her third beer down._

_Christen nods, “Yes,” she agrees, “now, I want another beer,” she says, standing up and heading to the bar, “you want one?”_

_“Sure,” Tobin grins, feeling pretty buzzed, getting up and following her, feeling fine, she hasn’t done this in a while, let loose, drink more than three or four beers and just have a night to do whatever. With what has just happened with Monica, she’s feeling the need to let loose and just have fun._

_“Why don’t you text Alex that you’re not coming home,” Christen reminds her, lifting two fingers to Rosie, who grins at her._

_“Right,” Tobin nods, pulling her phone from her hoodie, sending the text._

_Christen turns from the bar, offering her a bottle, “What’s next?”_

_“Follow me,” Tobin says, taking the beer and walking back to the table, she grabs her coat, gesturing for Christen to do the same. They walk back to the bar, handing their belongings to Rosie._

_“I know that look,” Rosie grins, lifting Christen’s purse over the bar, “Christen, you’re gonna have your hands full,”_

_“Is that so?” Christen grins, she’s feeling good, happy to see Tobin so relaxed and smiling._

_“This one,” Rosie points to Tobin, “is trouble.”_

_Tobin is looking up at the ceiling, swaying a little, whistling and trying to look innocent. Then she looks at Christen and smiles wide, taking her hand, “Let’s go,”_

_“She’s trouble!” Rosie chuckles loudly, as they walk away._

_Tobin gives her the finger without looking back, “Shut up Ro!” she shouts._

_She leads Christen down a dark hallway, pushing open a heavy door. The bathrooms are on each side of them and she pauses to look if Christen needs to go. She shakes her head, so Tobin leads her through another heavy door._

_The dinging of games and lights flashing of the arcade makes Christen drop her mouth open._

_“Woah,” she says, drawing out the word._

_“Pretty rad, huh?”_

_“Oh man, I haven’t played games in forever,” Christen gushes, “they’ve got air hockey!”_

_“Care to show off your skills, Press?” Tobin asks, holding up a quarter._

_“You mean kick your ass?” Christen laughs, “For sure.”_

_Tobin finds out very quickly just how competitive Christen is. She does, in fact, kick her ass in air hockey, scoring before Tobin could even focus on the playing surface._

_“I wasn’t ready!” she protests, pouting._

_Christen giggles, “Okay, you get a free shot,” she nods, lifting her red pusher from the table, “come on,”_

_Tobin lines up her shot only to have it bounce off the corner of the goal, ricocheting back into her own goal. She hangs her head as Christen laughs hysterically._

_From there, the game goes from bad to worse, Christen casually drinking her beer as she expertly defends her goal as Tobin tries to score. When the buzzer goes off, the score is fifteen to zero._

_“Unbelievable!” Tobin shakes her head, laughing, grabbing her beer and taking a drink. “That was unreal!”_

_Christen just shrugs, smirking at her, “Want to go again?”_

_“Nuh uh,” Tobin shakes her head, “let’s find something else,” she suggests._

_Christen glances down, “Wait,” she says, bending down, “they have tickets?” she squeals excitedly, holding up a handful of tickets._

_“Yeah,” Tobin nods, pointing, “there’s a redemption counter over there.”_

_“Ooooh! I wanna look!” Christen pleads, looking at Tobin expectantly._

_“Sure,” Tobin grins, loving how excited Christen is._

_“I want that,” Christen points to a large, tannish puppy with big brown eyes, they’re standing in front of the redemption counter and looking at a line of stuffed animals. “I’m gonna  
get that,” she says determinedly. _

_“It’s a thousand tickets, Chris,” Tobin notes._

_“Well, we’ll just have to keep playing!” Christen laughs. “Come on!” she grabs Tobin’s hand to find another game._

_They’re at some zombie game, both holding rifles, trying to shoot and kill the ferocious beasts, Tobin yelping every time they pop out at her, firing wildly to battle them. Christen is laughing hysterically as she swiftly eliminates the threats._

_“Come on, Tobin,” she whines with a giggle, “keep shooting,”_

_“It’s scary!” Tobin nearly shrieks, jumping as another group pops up from around the corner._

_The game goes on, Tobin long ago killed off, drinking her beer as she watches Christen proceed through the levels. Tobin’s not drunk, not yet at least, but she’s figured out that Christen either holds her liquor very well or is one of those people who you just can’t tell is drunk._

_Jeannie appears by her side, holding two bottles of beer, “Here,” she offers, Tobin taking one and draining the last quarter of her own before reaching for the second one to hold for Christen._

_“Thanks,” she nods to Jeannie who picks up Christen’s empty bottle and disappears._

_Christen pauses in between levels to take a quick drink, “I told Ro to keep the beers flowing,” she grins at Tobin, her eyes flashing dangerously. Oh shit, Tobin thinks._

_“Oh, get them!” Tobin points to the screen. The battle is on._

_Christen dies off near the last level, much to her disappointment. That feeling only lasts for a few seconds as the machine begins to spit out tickets._

_She’s brimming with excitement, folding the tickets and putting them in her hoodie pocket. “That’s 280 tickets so far,” she grins, taking another sip of her beer, “720 to go!”_

_They keep playing, Christen keeps winning, Tobin losing horribly, laughing all through it. She realizes she’s very drunk, many games and a couple more beers later, when they play a whack a mole game and she can’t focus on hitting the little critter as it pops up. Her reaction time is so slow._

_“Yo, Chris,” she says, leaning against the game, “I am really drunk,” she announces with a lopsided grin._

_Christen looks up from counting the tickets, her eyes widening as she looks at her. “Yeah, you are,” she laughs, “no more beer for you,”_

_They take a bathroom break and Christen tells her stay put and she’ll be right back. Tobin wanders around the arcade, they pretty much have it to themselves, blinking as she tries to focus on the machines. She stands before the claw machine._

_I could do this, she thinks. She looks in and sees the prizes are ticket bundles._

_“Here,” Christen reappears, shoving a water bottle into her hands. “You want to play?” she fishes out some quarters and puts them in the machine. “I got some more change,” she grins at her._

_“I’m gonna win you some tickets, sweetheart,” Tobin says confidently with a wide grin, then sticking her tongue out as she concentrates. She slides the arm over, closing one eye to line it up, then lets it go. Both of them watch as the claw grips a bundle, dangling dangerously as it brings it to the chute._

_“I won,” Tobin whispers, looking over at Christen, grinning wildly, “I won!” she cheers._

_“You won!” Christen cheers with her, hugging her. Then she bends down to retrieve the bundle._

_She looks at Tobin with big eyes, her mouth open, “You won 500 tickets!”_

_“Yes!” Tobin proclaims, raising both arms in a sideways curl and flexing them, “I am the master!”_

_“Baby, we only need,” she pauses for a second, “150 more tickets!”_

_“What should we play next?” Tobin asks, sipping her water, a hand on the machine to steady herself. She hasn’t been drunk like this in a long time, maybe since last year when they won the championship._

_Christen looks around, the points, “Skee ball!”_

_Tobin’s eyes are drooping as Christen hugs her new stuffed animal, “I love it,” she says, smiling and showing it to Tobin, “she reminds me of you,” she giggles, “a sleepy little puppy,”_

_“This puppy is ready for bed,” Tobin announces, slurring her words a little, “I’m done,”_

_Christen puts her arm around Tobin, guiding them from the redemption counter back through the hallway to the bar. Rosie takes one look at them and starts laughing._

_“You’re in for a treat tonight,” she laughs, handing Christen over her jacket and purse, “give me a minute,” she says, handing Tobin her coat and leaving back into the kitchen._

_Christen helps Tobin into her jacket, zipping it up as she looks at her with this stupid little grin, leaning up against the bar._

_Rosie comes out from the side of the kitchen, jacket on, “Okay, you two,” she announces, “let’s go.”_

_“Oh, I can get an Uber,” Christen protests, “it’s fine,”_

_Rosie firmly shakes her head, “No Thorn leaves here wasted in an Uber,” she says, “it’s no problem.”_

_“Oh,” Christen says, her eyes wide, suddenly thinking about publicity and Uber drivers taking photos and things like that._

_She grabs a hold of Tobin and follows Rosie out the door._

_“Thank you so much for this,” Christen says from the backseat, Tobin insisted she sit with her, the athlete nearly passed out, nuzzling against her._

_“It’s no problem,” Rosie says softly, looking in the mirror to catch Christen’s eyes, “she may not have intended to get so wasted, but I’m glad she did it at my place,”_

_“Yeah,” Christen nods, snuggling Tobin a little closer, “it’s been a rough few days.”_

_“That I do know,” Rosie replies, “so I hear you’re a professor,” she says, changing the subject._

_“Yes,” Christen replies, “I teach biology at the U of Portland,”_

_“Nice,” Rosie grins, “I hope you don’t have classes tomorrow,” she says, “you’ll probably be up all night with that one,” she looks in the mirror, “she’s a puker.”_

_“I’ve seen it already,” Christen nods with an eye roll, holding her little drunk puppy and the stuffed animal tight._

_Rosie drops them off at Christen’s house, Christen thanking her profusely, Tobin just smiling and giving her a knuckle punch._

_They get in the house, Tobin kneeling on the ground, barking playfully to the dogs as she pets them, Christen shaking her head and pulling Tobin up to get her jacket off. She’s getting tired, shocked to see it’s nearly two in the morning._

_“Come on,” she guides Tobin to her bedroom, “let’s go to bed,”_

_“You wanna take me to bed?” Tobin smiles suggestively, her eyes little slits, curling her hands around Christen’s waist._

_Christen gives her a quick kiss, “I don’t think you’re in any condition to do anything but sleep, babe,” she says, taking one of Tobin’s hands, Tobin pouts but allows herself to be led to the bedroom._

_She can see Tobin’s tired and she’s so pleased she’s been very cooperative getting undressed and into some sweats and t-shirt to sleep in. Now to just get her in bed._

_“Wait, wait, wait,” Tobin says, placing a hand on each of Christen’s shoulders, “I’ve got to ask you an important question,” she says seriously, looking at her a bit glossy eyed._

_“What, honey?” Christen questions._

_“Do you have a hair tie I could use?” Tobin looks at her carefully, listing to one side._

_“Here,” Christen slips one off her wrist._

_Tobin nods solemnly, “Uh, where’s the bathroom again?” she looks around the room._

_“That door,” Christen points, unsure of what’s going on._

_“I’ll be right back,” Tobin says, walking unsteadily to the bathroom while attempting to pull her hair back._

_It only takes about thirty seconds until Christen hears the sound of Tobin vomiting. She rolls her eyes, heading to the bathroom, seeing Tobin on her knees, retching over the toilet. She busies herself setting out the toothbrush again for Tobin and glass of water and the mouthwash._

_When she finishes, Tobin slowly gets up, flushing the toilet, a look of embarrassment on her face, “Sorry,” she mumbles, taking the cup in her hand that Christen offers her, “Don’t worry, babe,” Christen smiles at her, “I’ve been there,” she says reassuringly._

_She leaves the bathroom while Tobin to brushes her teeth and puts herself together, waiting on the bed. Tobin comes out after a few minutes, yawning and looking exhausted._

_“You good?” Christen asks, turning down the covers, helping Tobin into the bed._

_“Yeah, I think so,” Tobin replies quietly, “I’m so sleepy,” she says, yawning again._

_“Let’s go to sleep,” Christen suggests, getting into bed, “you want to snuggle?”_

_“Nuh huh,” Tobin mumbles, “everything is spinning,” she whines._

_“Put your foot on the floor,”_

_“I need a dog,” Tobin says sleepily, “a dog will make me better,” she mumbles._

_Christen shoves the stuffed puppy at her, “Here,”_

_“Hi puppy,” she hears Tobin whispering, “you’re so soft,”_

_Christen settles in as Tobin keeps whispering to the dog, talking nonsense about going to the dog beach and throwing sticks. “Go to sleep,” Christen moans, rolling on her side._

_Eventually she falls asleep to Tobin’s low voice, whispering to the stuffed animal about running around on the beach and how she would teach it to surf._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought we all could use a bit of fluff after so much angst. Just three more chapters now, gotta admit, feeling kinda sad letting this one go. 
> 
> As for thoughts on a sequel- maybe? Like I said last chapter, there's some ideas floating around, but if I can't put that together, maybe just do some one shots in this world. I'm not going to leave these two where we leave off on chapter 29. So you will see them again- when? Not sure. But you will. 
> 
> Again- the kudos and comments- thanks!


	27. The Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen and Tobin head back to Port Alberni to film their interviews for the show. They schmooze with the other celebrities and learn who won the show.

.

 

December 8, 2015 

Day 39

 

 

“I am never drinking again,” Tobin declares with a low, scratchy voice, “I feel horrible,” 

“Is your stomach jumpy?” Christen asks from the stove where she is cooking breakfast. 

“No, thank the Lord,” Tobin replies, “I just have a pounding headache,” 

“It’s probably a good thing you threw up last night,” Christen states, flipping a pancake over. 

“I threw up?” Tobin looks startled, “Where?” 

Christen gives her a small smile, “Here, when we got back,” she says, “after Rosie drove us home,” 

“Rosie drove us?” Tobin asks, “Oh shit,” she mumbles, yawning and scratching her neck, “she’ll have fun with that one.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Christen assures her, “you were fine,” she says, stacking pancakes on both plates and bringing them to the table, “you were asleep in the car, not a peep,” 

“I didn’t embarrass you, did I?” Tobin asks cautiously, “Or myself?” 

Christen shake her head, “No, babe,” she says, “we had a lot of fun, got drunk and came here. You threw up and went to bed.” 

“I threw up in the bathroom,” Tobin says, nodding as the hazy memory comes back, “did we talk about going to the beach?” 

Christen chuckles, “You did,” she says, pouring some syrup on her pancakes and passing the bottle to Tobin, “you were in a serious conversation with Powell last night,” 

“Who’s Powell?” Tobin asks, confused, racking her brain for who this person is. 

Christen grins, “My new puppy,” she takes a bite of pancake. 

“Puppy?” Tobin is looking around, Morena is sitting by her legs, Kahleesi is laying on the couch. 

“She’s in my room,” Christen nods, grinning at her, “I’ll show you after we eat.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“So, classes start in the middle of January,” Christen says as she drives Tobin back to Rosie’s, “I teach on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursdays, and those are usually full days because I keep office hours. I’ll have off for Easter break.” 

“Will you text me the dates?” Tobin asks, “I won’t remember them,” she says, “but there’s a chance I’ll be off around there, it should be the week before the season opens.” Tobin grins at her, “Nice schedule,” she says.

“I know, right? Do you have any breaks in the summer?” Christen asks, “I thought there was a break” 

“There’s a break during the Olympics,” Tobin replies, “if I make the roster, I’m allowed a week off before reporting to the Thorns after the games.” 

“Would you be doing something?” Christen asks, “Hanging out with your family?” 

Tobin looks at her, “Most likely I’ll see them at some of the matches,” she says, “I was thinking maybe spending some time with you,” she says quietly, “if you want.” 

“I want,” Christen answers immediately, then she glances at her, “would something like unplugging from the world and getting a cabin or going camping appeal to you?” 

“Unplugging in a cabin would be amazing,” Tobin replies, “camping, eh, I might be really wiped out, Chris,” 

“I understand,” she says, “I’ll check it out, send me the dates of the tournament,” she suggests, “I’ve got some connections.” 

“You ready for the interview thing?” Tobin asks. They both received an email from Lisa stating the show follow up interviews were the week before Christmas. She included a list of questions they would ask them to comment on. 

“Oh yeah,” Christen nods, “I can’t believe it’s next week.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, “so what are your holiday plans?” 

“California,” Christen frowns, “you?” 

“Florida, then New Jersey,” she frowns as well. 

“Why don’t we celebrate in Port Alberni? While we’re there for the show?” Christen asks, looking over at her. 

Tobin smiles, “Sounds fitting,” she nods.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Christen smiles at her. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“You got wasted last night,” Alex accuses Tobin as she walks into the living room and drops down on the couch next to her. 

“Uh huh,” Tobin groans, laying her head back on the couch cushion, “not intentionally, though.” 

Alex snorts, “Right,” 

“No, really,” Tobin says, opening her eyes and lifting her head to look at her, “I took Christen to Rosie’s last night,” 

“Ah!” Alex arches an eyebrow at her, “It’s your evil cousin’s fault with her evil drinks that are so amazing!” She knows what nights at Rosie’s can be like. 

“Well, it was more like the beers that did me in,” Tobin confesses. 

“Did you have the shrimp?” Alex asks, “The Trifecta?” 

Tobin nods. 

“We have to go soon,” Alex states, “I love that shrimp,” 

“So did Chris,” Tobin says, “actually, we should, I’d love to see the two of you go at it over air hockey.” 

“She’s competitive?” 

“Very,” Tobin nods, setting her head back down, closing her eyes. 

“Excellent,” Alex gives an evil chuckle, “let’s see if she’s a worthy competitor, you suck.” 

“She just might kick your ass and she can hold her liquor,” Tobin adds. 

“Anyone can, compared to you, lightweight,” Alex snorts, elbowing her gently. 

“She might be on Nadine’s level,” Tobin considers. 

“Impressive,” Alex raises her eyebrows, “we should have her come too,” 

“And her girlfriend, she’s the only one who can handle her,” Tobin adds. 

“True,” Alex nods. Then she shifts to face Tobin, “So, how are you doing? The police stuff go okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, shifting to face her more, “I just wrote out a statement, which was pretty short. I was at the bar, someone tapped me on the shoulder and then hit me.” She shrugs, “Like, it was weird, but that’s what they wanted.” 

“Are you feeling alright, besides the hangover at,” she looks at her watch, “three o’clock?” 

“I’m good,” Tobin yawns, “no weird headaches or dizziness,” 

“God, you were so lucky,” Alex smiles, “I’ll cook dinner, why don’t you take a nap?” 

“Yeah?” Tobin looks at her. 

“Yeah, I got it,” Alex says, “I’ll wake you when it’s ready,” 

“Thanks, Al,” Tobin slowly leaves the couch, “Our Rosie’s trip will be on me,” she says as she walks to her room. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

December 18, 1015 

Day 49

“Shit, is it cold,” Tobin chatters, snuggling deeper into her coat while they waited for their Uber to take them from the airport to the Hospitality Inn where they’re staying. Christen asked Lisa to change their return flights from Saturday night to Monday afternoon, explaining they wanted to explore the city a little after their show responsibilities. Lisa changed their hotel reservation and Christen told her they would pay for the two extra days themselves. Lisa asked if she should change it from two rooms to one and Christen was positive Lisa could tell she was blushing when she answered affirmatively for one room. 

“I’m glad we’re not in the woods right now,” Christen shivering, rolling her suitcase behind her. Tobin had carried her mid size duffel on with her, it’s slung over her shoulder. 

Dusk is falling as they ride in the vehicle to the hotel, Lisa greeting them in the lobby. The lobby is decked out for Christmas with a tree and garland and lights all over the place. They hug and Lisa hands them their agenda.

“Tonight’s a cocktail reception, very casual,” she reminds them, “then we’ll have dinner and an awards presentation. Taping starts after breakfast, we’ll have a lunch break and then tape again. We should be finished by two.” She explains, handing them another sheet of paper, “These are the questions you’ll be asked, we’ll show clips of what we’re talking about and then ask your thoughts.” 

The schedule had been sent to them along with the wardrobe suggestions. The questions were the same ones from the previous email. Both Tobin and Christen had reviewed them and felt they were prepared. 

“Got it,” Tobin smiles, “and Lisa, thank you again so much for your help when I needed it so badly,” she says sincerely, “Chris told me how awesome you and everyone was and I just want you to know how much I appreciate it.” 

“Have to say,” Lisa frowns, “you were the most serious medical emergency we’ve ever had,” she nods, “I’m happy you’re doing good. Getting ready for the season?” 

“Yeah, feeling good,” Tobin replies, “you follow the league?” 

“Oh yeah,” she says, “I live in Houston, but the Thorns is my team,” she smiles broadly at her, I’m originally from Portland.” 

“Well, please let me know if you want to come to any matches,” Tobin says, “I’ll hook you up with tickets, whenever you want, really,” she insists. 

“I might take you up on that,” she grins.

“Please do,” Tobin says earnestly, “it’s the least I can do.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, “I’ll let you know.” 

“Awesome,” Tobin grins, giving her a knuckle punch. 

Lisa looks over her shoulder, “I got to go,” she says, “I’ll see you later,” 

Christen smiles at Tobin, “You’re really sweet,” she says to her as they make their way to the elevators. 

Tobin pulls out her phone, making some notes to remind herself to send Lisa some swag and some signed team stuff. “Aw, it’s the least I can do,” she says quietly. She checks her email, her eyes widening when she sees an email from Michael. She’ll read it in a few minutes. 

They get in the room, both of them pausing for a minute. 

“This is really nice,” Tobin murmurs as she takes a couple of steps in, letting her bag slide from her shoulder and setting it on the floor. The room is more spacious than the one they had the last time they were here. 

“It is,” Christen agrees, seeing the luggage rack and setting her suitcase on it. She opens the closet, pulling her jacket off, fishing out a hanger and hanging her coat up, “here,” she says, a hand reaching out for Tobin’s coat. 

“Oh, thanks,” Tobin says, shrugging off her coat off and handing it to her. 

“So,” Tobin turns to her and brings her in her arms, “we’ve got an hour,” she says wiggling her eyebrows at her, “what do you wanna do?” 

Christen gives her a quick kiss and looks at her with a smile, “Honestly, I want to unpack and then get ready for the reception,” 

Tobin licks her lips and nods, “That’s the prudent thing to do Dr. Press,” she says, her hand along Christen’s side, “you sure I can’t interest you in doing something else for a while, hum?” 

Christen kisses her once again, “As much as that’s becoming one of my most favorite things to do with you,” she says, “I really would like to get my head straight before meeting all of these people.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, giving her a little smile, “I understand,” she says, “I should unpack too,” she gives her another quick kiss and lets her hands fall away. “You pick what side of the sink you want,” she says, retrieving her bag and setting it on the bed. 

Tobin unpacks quickly and sits on the edge of the bed, holding her phone and reading the email from Michael. He had forwarded an email from the criminal attorney who was representing Tobin with the Monica mess. 

“Hey, Chris?” she calls out, her eyes on her phone. 

“Yeah, honey?” she calls from the bathroom. 

“There was court today,” Tobin replies as Christen exits the bathroom, coming over to sit next to her, Tobin has the tip of tongue poking out as she scrolls to the bottom of the email. The attorney’s email is filled with a lot of legal stuff Tobin doesn’t understand but he summarizes it easy terms at the bottom. 

She finds it, “Okay, here’s what he says: From the last court date where they granted a continuance for a psych evaluation, they proceed to today’s date. The doctor assigned stated that Monica is suffering from anxiety, depression, has a borderline personality disorder and shows the signs of the resentful and rejected stalker.” She glances at Christen, seeing the hard set of her jaw. 

“It is recommended to the judge, she be held in a secure, criminal psychiatric facility to undergo treatment for the recommended period of her sentencing with mandatory out patient enrollment at the time of her release. Immediate inpatient treatment recommended for any parole violations.” Tobin’s eyes shoot up, glancing over at Christen who’s face is unreadable. “She is determined to be a danger to society when off of her medications. Interviews with family discovered she had been in treatment for a personality disorder but had ceased attending in the last year and refusing to take her prescribed medications. Preliminary sentencing date is January 11, 2016. Considering having Ms. Press testify before judge at that time.” 

“I’ll call him,” Christen says immediately “I want her put away, but I want her to get whatever help she needs.” 

“Chris, are you sure?” Tobin looks at her, “you don’t have to if it’s too much,” 

Christen turns to her, setting her hand on Tobin’s thigh, “Tobin, she tried to kill you, if my testimony can keep her somewhere safe, away from us, I need to do it. I’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll be in camp,” Tobin frowns, “I can get out early, I can miss the match,” she says, nodding as her plan comes together in her head. 

“No, Tobin,” Christen says, “that’s your job, if your attorney doesn’t want you there, stay in camp and play your game,” she says earnestly, “I’ll talk to your attorney and see if he wants Jen and Sam to come in and talk about her coming to their house, maybe it will make a stronger case against her.” 

“Well, I should still be there,” Tobin looks at her, “to support you,” she says, “to support Jen and Sam if they go,” 

Christen shakes her head, “Tobin,” she says softly, “if you don’t have to be there, it’s probably the best. If you testify against her, it might give her ideas of getting more revenge on you something,” 

“But you would be in the same situation,” Tobin argues, “I should be there,” 

Christen eyes Tobin, seeing her determination, nodding thoughtfully, “You know,” she says slowly, “we don’t have to make a decision this minute,” she sees Tobin nodding, “maybe we should consider this after talking to Michael and the lawyer, see what they recommend.” 

“Yeah,” Tobin agrees, slowly, looking thoughtful, “maybe we should hear what they think,” 

“Yeah,” Christen gives her a small smile, “they might think it’s not in your best interests to appear in court,” she says quietly, “let’s decide once we know what they think is best.” 

“Alright,” Tobin yawns, “we should do that,” 

“Good,” Christen leans in and kisses her softly, “now let’s get ready for the reception,” 

 

 

XXXX

 

“Oh my God,” Christen whispers, a sudden wave of nervousness blanketing over her, “there’s Brett Favre.” 

Tobin takes one look at her and sees the nerves. She bends towards to whisper in her ear, “Just remember Chris, they’re all just regular people,” she says, “they look horrible in the morning, they get pimples and they poop too,” repeating her words from when Christen met her friends. 

Christen turns and gives her a small nod and a smile and takes a deep breath, “Right,” 

They enter the room. 

 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Avril Lavigne gushes at Tobin, “I’m a big fan!” 

“Oh, hey, thanks,” Tobin smiles, “so am I,” she turns, “Avril, I’d like you to meet Dr. Christen Press, she was my pro on the show,” 

“You are one tough broad,” Avril exclaims, shaking Christen’s hand, “that was so gutsy of you,” she says, “I would have tapped out as soon as I was out of the water, but you, you gutted it out, that had to be exhausting!” 

“It wasn’t one of my finer moments,” Christen winces.

“Oh no,” Avril says authoritatively, “I wouldn’t have changed a thing you did, I don’t think there was any other decision you could have made.” She’s shaking her head earnestly, “From the place in the river to cross, to pushing forward and moving towards the embankment,” she shakes her head, “anyone who thinks different is an idiot and doesn’t know what it’s really like out there.” 

“Thanks,” Christen smiles at her, “I appreciate it,” 

“Avril,” Tobin says, “you may not remember this, but one of my teammates met you a while back,” 

“Sinc?” Avril’s eyes light up, “I never got her number,” she says excitedly, “she said a bunch of you guys go out as much as you can,” 

“Yeah we do,” Tobin replies, then someone is calling her name, “oh, would you two excuse me for a second?” 

They nod and Christen watches as Tobin approaches Bo Jackson, greeting him and shaking his hand. 

“The heart eyes are real,” Avril says over the rim of her wine glass. 

Christen’s eyes widen, looking at her, “Oh, um,” 

“Don’t worry,” Avril bumps her with her shoulder, “I won’t say a word, it’s cool.” 

Christen is stunned as the rock star begins talking to her about shelter set ups and some of the ones she’s tried out on her property. Before Tobin rejoins them, the two have exchanged phone numbers and Avril is promising to come to Portland in the spring to get a basket weaving lesson and take Christen up on her offer to show her some native edibles around Portland. 

Tobin joins them, eating an appetizer, “I have to admit,” she says sheepishly, “I haven’t watched all the episodes they’ve shown yet,” 

“I watched the first few, but I think I’ll just binge watch it later. Do you have any clue who won?” Avril asks, nodding to the server who presents a tray to them. They all take a plate and a few items from it. 

“No clue,” Christen shakes her head. 

“I tapped out on day 22,” Tobin offers, eating another shrimp. She’s starving. 

“Huh,” Avril says thoughtfully. 

“If I can have your attention,” a voice comes over the sound system, “if you would please find your seats, your names are at the place settings,” 

“I hope I sit with you guys,” Avril confides to Christen in a whisper, “all this machismo makes me sick,” 

Ted Nugent’s braying laugh is heard over the group. 

Sure enough, Avril and her partner Jamie are seated with Tobin and Christen. Bo Jackson and his partner Fred finish out their table. Servers come by and take their orders for drinks and dinner, then they start introductions and light table talk. 

There’s a small stage and a large screen against the wall for them to view. Lisa stands on the stage welcoming them, reminding them of the schedule tomorrow and introducing the staff who helped create the show. 

Tori and Mike join Lisa on the stage and the three begin chatting about some of the highs and lows of the season. They play a video showing clips of each of them when they are definitely not at their best, bed head in the morning, some of the clothing choices of mismatched clothes. 

Christen laughs watching Tobin fall on her ass while fishing with the gill net in the stream. Tobin giggles when they show a montage of clips of Christen geeking out over the landscape and busting herself for her mini lectures. 

The video ends just as the servers appear with the dinners, the tables settling down to talk quietly as they eat. Tobin is in heaven as she eats her ribeye steak and double baked potato, Christen finding the fresh caught tuna cooked to perfection. 

Everyone at the table raves about their meals, it’s a relaxed atmosphere, very casual. 

“You know,” Bo says, catching everyone’s eye, “I learned something out there,” he says seriously, pausing dramatically, “Bo don’t know bears!” he grins and laughs, “I was scared shitless!” 

That starts a discussion about the wildlife they encountered, Tobin and Christen seemingly the only ones at the table without having too many serious scares. 

“I swear that bear was going to chase me!” Jamie exclaims, “He was too friendly.” 

Talk shifts to the first thing they ate when they left the show. A cheeseburger was the most popular choice. Then how wonderful a shower was, toilet paper, the necessities that are usually taken for granted. 

“Okay,” Lisa’s voice rings out in the room, she’s back on the stage, “we’re going to start tonight’s proceedings,” she announces. 

“I’d like to call Bo and Fred to the stage,” she smiles. The two men leave the table and walk to the low stage. 

“So, Bo,” Lisa begins, “what overall thought would you take from this experience?” 

Bo, playing the audience, looks around, seems to seriously consider it and then leans to his mic, “Bo don’t know bears.” 

The crowd reacts with laughter, Fred shaking his head. “I didn’t even make it to him,” he complains good naturedly, “but those bears are hard to deal with,” he acknowledges, offering a knuckle punch to Bo, “you did what you could,” 

A video gives a short montage of Bo and Fred’s experience, ending with Bo calling in. They tapped out on Day Three. 

Both men are presented with custom survival knives, engraved with the show’s name and the dates of finish of the competition. A strong round of applause is given as the two men leave the stage. The table congratulates them when they sit down, whispering as Bo passes the knife around for them to see. 

“If we could have Brett and John come up?” Lisa requests, smiling as they approach. She asks the same question to both men, Brett responding that he has a new sense of respect for the weather and just how hard true survival techniques are and how much he learned from his partner. His partner, Jerry, replies with something along the same lines. They tapped out on Day Eight. 

Tobin’s table casts surprised looks as Lisa calls Ted and Hawk, his partner to the stage. Bo gestures to Avril and Tobin, both shrugging their shoulders. 

Ted surprises them all with his eloquence and genuine compliments to his partner, truthfully stating that even though they didn’t always agree, he respected the man for his skills. The video shows a scene where Hawk is grudgingly helping Ted make a tree stand and takes a fall, breaking three ribs. They go out Day Seventeen. 

Tobin takes a sip of her water before sending an eyebrow wiggle to Christen as they wait for their names to be called. To their shock, Lisa calls them out with Avril and Jamie, for all of them to come to the stage. 

The four rise, sending each other uncertain looks as they make their to the stage, Tobin and Avril sitting next to each other with Christen at Tobin’s side, Jamie at Avril’s on the far side. 

“As the final two groups,” Lisa states, “we thought we’d hear from each of you about your experience, what you would take away from it, Avril?”

Tobin’s relieved she would have a minute to gather her thoughts before speaking as she listens to Avril. 

“Just that everything is so unforgiving,” she says, scrunching her mouth, “you plan for the best and something completely unexpected happens,” she shakes her head, “we had no choice but to tap out,” 

Tobin nods with her, knowing exactly what she means. 

“It was the worst case scenario,” Jamie adds, “there was nothing we could do. Like Av said, you prepare and think you’ve got everything covered and then something completely unexpected happens and there’s nothing you can do.” 

The video shows the two in their shelter, huddled near the fire, preparing to eat when a loud crack is heard and suddenly their roof collapses, a large tree coming in, sending a cascade of water on everything. The two struggle to get out from under the branches, screaming at each other, asking if their okay, scrambling to free themselves. 

“Holy shit!” Ted proclaims loudly, the entire crowd in shock. 

Lisa turns to Tobin, “What would you say, Tobin?” she questions. 

Tobin nods for a second, softly elbowing Avril, “What she said,” she replies, grinning a little, she pauses when the group chuckles. “But I’d add just how grateful I am to have been able to participate in this,” she continues, “the chance to kick back, unplug and just be real in the almost the most primitive way you can anymore,” she says, shaking her head a little, “it was a gift.” She looks out at the group, “We push ourselves so much, we get so busy in our lives, that something like this,” she scratches at the back of her neck, “it’s a reality check. You can get things in perspective.” She glances over at Christen, “You can meet an amazing person who just blows you away with their kindness, their skills, their talent, their knowledge,” she smiles at Lisa, “This experience has impacted me in so many ways, I’ll always be so grateful for the rest of my life for the unexpected things you find in the woods.” 

Lisa smiles back Tobin and then looks expectantly at Christen. 

Christen is hoping she’s still not blushing from Tobin’s compliments, nodding at Lisa. She crosses her legs and leans forward, “I went into this with the mindset that I was the pro. I had to get to my partner because as quick as I could because I didn’t know how skilled they were. Yes, there was some ego involved, thinking maybe when I arrived, I could be the savior, set things right.” She pauses, glancing at Tobin, “I found out very quickly how wrong I was in thinking like that, my partner was preparing for my arrival. She was being a true partner, putting my possible needs first, preparing a place for me, being selfless in doing whatever little other things she might have wanted to do for herself, take a day off and relax, or spend time exploring the area more. She was being a good teammate. The things I learned from Tobin had very little to do with survival methods, although she showed me some, don’t get me wrong, but this woman next to me taught me life lessons, about character, about selflessness, about a willingness to learn and compromise, about serving others and the rewards you receive from it.” She nods her head, “I was privileged to be her partner, and I’m so grateful for this experience as well.” 

She looks at Tobin as the room fills with applause, seeing her flick a tear away, blushing and looking down. She elbows her, offering a fist and they bump them, Tobin smiling shyly and Christen giggling at her. 

A video clip is shown of Tobin in agony as Christen tries to help her, Tobin grimly telling her she’s not tapping out and then ending with Tobin stuttering out for Christen to make the call. 

Lisa smiles at them, “Well, that was something else,” she says, nodding at the room that is stunned to silence. “Tobin was the most serious medical rescue our crew has ever had to respond to.” 

“What the hell happened, girl?” Bo calls out, his voice concerned. 

“My appendix,” Tobin replies with a wry grin, “picked a great time to want to leave.” 

Lisa stands up, “This show states that the last group to tap out wins. Something happened that hasn’t ever happened in the Alone series history,” she looks over the four women on the stage, “you both tapped out on the same day.” 

“Woah,” Tobin murmurs, looking with wide eyes at Avril and then Christen. They’re all surprised. 

“Technically, Tobin and Christen lasted longer, Avril and Jamie tapped out at seven nineteen, while they tapped at nine thirty-five.” 

Tobin shakes her head, “We split it,” she says firmly, “it was the same day, we gotta split it.” Avril and Jamie looked shocked. Christen just smiles and shakes her head slightly,   
knowing Tobin would do something like that. Fair play and all. 

Lisa nods, “I just knew you would say that,” she says, turning to present knives to them, handing them each a dark wooden box, these knives are different than the ones the others received. 

They open them to look at their gift, seeing their name with their partner’s name and the dates they lasted. Winner is etched on the bottom line of the engraving. 

“The series will end with these two groups being declared winner,” Lisa announces, the room offering applause, “and a reminder,” she holds her finger up, “no leaking results until after it airs. It doesn’t leave this room. You have three weeks to keep your mouths shut until the finale airs.” she grins. 

“That concludes tonight’s dinner,” she says in closing, “the bar is open for as long as you like, just remember we have interviews in the morning,” she grins at them, “try not to be hungover. Thank you all,” 

The four stand, exchanging hugs and congratulating each other. Then they turn to Lisa, “Remember,” Tobin says, “if you’re coming to Portland, I’ll hook you for any match you want.”

The four pose for photos showing off their knives before being allowed to leave the stage, coming back to their table and accepting hugs and well wishes from Bo and Fred. 

“I need a beer,” Tobin breathes out, “you want something?” she questions Christen. 

“A bourbon,” she replies, “I can’t believe it!” 

“I know, right?” Tobin says excitedly. 

The four women head to the bar, accepting congratulations from the other contestants, exchanging tales of their experiences as they get their drinks. 

Christen is so impressed watching Tobin seamlessly and casually mix with everyone, smiling, nodding and making small talk. She always introduces her, making sure to include her in the short conversations before politely excusing themselves and moving on. 

The two have a minute alone and Christen looks at her, “Tobin, I don’t know how you do this so easily,” she confesses, “if you weren’t here, I’d probably be sitting in a corner getting wasted.” 

Tobin flashes her that model smile, “It’s called schmoozing, sweetie,” she says.

“Well, can we sit for a little?” Christen asks, “I’m kind of schmoozed out.” 

Tobin nods and they sit at their table, looking over their knives again. 

Avril and Jamie join them, sitting down, “I can’t believe that Ted is such a nice man,” she gushes. 

“He offered to host us on his property for hunting lessons,” Jamie smiles. 

“He seems pretty genuine,” Tobin agrees, “maybe he just turns it on for the cameras,” 

“Oh, Tobin,” Avril says, “would it be cool if you gave Sinc my number? I invited her to my property and I was sincere, but we never got to exchange numbers.” 

“Why don’t I give you her number,” Tobin grins, “but I’ll tell her I did so she doesn’t think it’s a prank when you call,” 

“Well, if you and Christen can stomach hanging with a bunch of Canucks, you’re more than welcome to join us,” she invites. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Tobin grins, “think you can hang, Press?” 

“I think it will be fun, eh?” she gives her best accent as the other three laugh. 

“And Tobin,” Avril says seriously, “you really didn’t have to split it,” she says, “you guys lasted longer.” 

Tobin shakes her head, “It was only right to,” she says, “we both went out on the same day. I’m not going to knit pick the time.” 

“Well thank you,” Avril says sincerely, “that money will help a lot of people.” 

Tobin nods, “What a great way to spread it around,” she smiles. 

“You know,” Christen says quietly, “I just can’t get over the fact that four women beat six men in a survival situation.” 

The other three sit back in their chairs, pondering that. 

“What an incredible message that sends to women and young girls.” Christen adds. 

“That’s pretty fucking bad ass,” Jamie smirks, “we beat Ted Nugent, Bo Jackson and Brett Favre. Fair and square.” 

Avril lifts her glass, “To Girl Power,” she says. They join her. “To Girl Power,” they toast and take a drink. 

“Well,” Christen says, “I think I’m ready to call it a night,” she scoots her chair back, “I want to get some sleep, so I don’t look like a raccoon in the morning.” 

The other three agree, grabbing their knives and making their way to the exit. 

 

 

“Chris,” Tobin says as they enter their room, “are you feeling okay? It’s only nine-thirty?” 

Christen sets her purse and knife box down on the table twirling to face her. Tobin can see the smoldering eyes, how they are darkening and the greens of her irises are changing shades. 

“I want you,” she says huskily, her eyes crawling over Tobin, “I need to have you,” she approaches her as Tobin sets her knife down, “all night,” she says, “you’ve just been this cool, laid back rock star, schmoozing with everyone. It was so fucking hot to watch.” 

She kisses Tobin hard, bringing a hand to the back of her neck, her other one going to her chest, grabbing a breast and massaging it. As they kiss, she moves her hands, both finding Tobin’s jeans, working the button and zipper, tugging on them. 

 

 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go. It's been a ride. This has been one of the more fulfilling stories I've written and your continued comments and all of the kudos have been one of the big reasons why. 
> 
> Thanks so much. 
> 
> MT


	28. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it.

'

 

December 19, 2015 

Day 50 

 

“Is that one of the sweaters Alex got you, babe?” Christen questions as Tobin pulls it on. 

“Yeah,” she replies, “it’s really warm,” 

“It’s really nice,” Christen says, coming to her and laying a hand on her chest, just below her neck, “I really like you in it,” she says, fingering the fabric and giving her a soft kiss, “Alex has great taste.” 

“I can’t argue with that,” Tobin grins, kissing her again, “I like your sweater, too,” she says, “it brings out your eyes so much.” She brings her arms around Christen, holding her for a minute. “You feel good about the interview questions?” she asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Christen answers, Tobin feeling her head nod against her shoulder, “I should be good.” 

“Excellent,” Tobin smiles, turning and kissing the side of her head, “we should head down then.” 

Tobin puts on a knit hat that goes well with the sweater as the two make sure they have a room key, explaining she didn’t feel like doing her hair for the filming. Christen thinks she looks fantastic, so comfortably casual, yet put together so well and natural looking even with the light makeup she’s wearing. They head down to the room they were in last night to do their interviews. They would be separately asked questions and then seated together for a few questions to answer as partners. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“That went pretty well,” Christen grins as they leave the interview room, looking over her shoulder as Tobin trails behind her, carrying her wood stick she had made to mark the days they were on the island. The crew had salvaged it when they went back to take down the shelter and they rescued two of Christen’s candles she made, giving them to her. 

“I just like this stick so much,” Tobin grins at her, “I can’t believe they saved it for me.” 

Christen slows her pace to walk along side her, “I’m going to have to keep these candles outside,” she wrinkles her nose, “they really smell like fish oil,” 

Tobin grins at her, “It’s just so thoughtful they did that,” she says, bumping her shoulder, “what a great memory to have.” 

“It is,” Christen agrees, “what do you want to do now?” 

“Honestly?” Tobin arches an eyebrow, “Take a nap,” she says, “like, a nap nap,” she clarifies, “I’m kind of tired.” 

“You are a napper,” Christen comments, liking the thought of relaxing for a while.

“Mostly because for work,” Tobin shrugs her shoulder, “it’s a must, but part of it is mental, too,” 

“To slow down?” Christen asks. 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, just reset,”

“I like that,” Christen says as they get to the elevator, she pushes the button, “I think I’m going to intentionally work on that. Making that part of my day.” 

“Yeah?” Tobin smiles.

“Yeah,” Christen smiles back. 

 

Tobin strips off the sweater, finding a t-shirt and puts on a pair of shorts, Christen doing the same, except not wearing shorts. They slide into bed, getting comfortable. 

“Oh,” Tobin says, yawning, “I made dinner reservations for us tonight,” she says quietly. 

“Ooh, where?” Christen asks. 

“Little Bavaria,” Tobin replies, “you said you liked German food,” 

Christen chuckles, “That’s where I was going to suggest for tonight,” 

Tobin grins at her, “Beat you to it,” 

“Yeah,” Christen says, still smiling and snuggling close to her, “you’re so awesome,” she sighs happily, "thanks, honey." 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“This place is cool,” Christen says as she looks around, the honey colored wood slat walls, low ceiling, dim lighting. 

“Very old world seventies,” Tobin grins, nodding appreciatively. 

They enjoy a cheese plate as an appetizer, both sipping on the Reisling their server recommended. While chatting with their server, Christen asks what dishes would be the best to   
get the true flavor of German food. Their server speaks highly of the Bavarian plate, a sampling of their popular schnitzels and bratwurst along with potatoes and vegetables. 

They decide to skip salads, instead wanting to order a couple of desserts. 

 

“Tobin, seriously,” Christen says, letting out a big sigh, “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat dessert,” she pushes her plate back a little. 

“Black Forest cake,” Tobin sings softly, “Apple Strudel,” she croons, lifting her eyebrows and smiling at her. 

Christen holds her gaze, the thought of cake beginning to appeal to her. She narrows her eyes at Tobin, “You’re evil,” she whispers, trying to look mean at her. 

“You want a coffee with it?” Tobin asks, giggling a little. 

“No,” Christen says, “I want a dessert liquor,” 

“Press,” Tobin grins, “you lushing it up tonight?” 

“I need a drink to deal with you, Heath,” she smiles sweetly at her. 

Tobin tilts her head at her, looking amused, “Is that so?” 

“Yes,” she says, eyes dancing, “I thought you were in training, a professional athlete, not some dessert enforcer,” 

“Oh, I like that,” Tobin chuckles, “dessert enforcer,” she nods, “should we get the Peach Flambe to try too?” 

“Stop,” Christen chuckles, “cake and strudel is fine.” 

“Okay,” Tobin smiles, “what do you think about walking back towards the hotel a little?” 

“Yes,” Christen nods, thanking their server when she delivers the desserts, “a walk would be good,” she looks at the cake, “although you might have to roll me out of here.” 

 

 

“I’m glad the wind died down,” Tobin comments as they walk along the sidewalk, arms linked, hands in pockets. 

“This is a neat little town,” Christen states, “it would be nice to come back here in the summer,” 

“Did you see the amount of parks they have here?” Tobin says, “there’s a ton of pamphlets in the lobby.” 

“We should look through them when we get back,” Christen suggests, “keep them for later,” 

“Sounds good,” Tobin nods, “keep walking or get an Uber?” 

“Let’s walk,” Christen replies, stepping closer to her as they continue their stroll. 

 

 

“What’s this?” Christen questions, looking at the small, decorated Christmas tree in the room by the fireplace. It wasn’t there when they left for dinner. 

Tobin shrugs, “We’re celebrating our first Christmas together,” she declares, smiling at her as she takes off her jacket, “can’t do that without a tree.”

“Aw,” Christen sighs, “you’re so sweet,” she says as she steps close and kisses her, “want to do presents now?” 

Tobin nods quickly, “Absolutely!” She moves to her luggage, beginning to dig around, “We have to get in our jammies!” 

“Jammies?” Christen questions, setting the pamphlets they had collected down and taking her coat off and hanging it in the closet. 

“Here,” Tobin says, tossing her a tissue wrapped package, “open it,” 

Christen catches it, it’s soft she feels, moving and sitting down on the edge of the bed to open it. She glances up and sees Tobin watching her closely, a smile plastered on her face.   
She rips the tissue and giggles as she holds up the garment, a collared, long sleeved flannel button up, white with a bunch of dogs on it dressed in Christmas outfits. “Tobin!” She laughs, “This is hilarious!” She holds up the pants that match, fingered the soft fabric, “They feel like they’ll be comfy,” 

Tobin nods, “Yep,” she says, “I already washed them,” she says, knowing Christen wouldn’t wear anything just out of the package, “I’m going to go change,” she grabs a flash of color and heads to the bathroom. Christen roll her eyes and begins to change out of her outfit. 

“You ready?” Tobin calls out through the open door of the bathroom. 

“Yes,” Christen giggles as she buttons her new shirt. 

“Ta-da!” Tobin exclaims, jumping out into the room. Tobin’s main color is green and as she approaches her, Christen discovers it’s full of dancing Santas and snowmen. She realizes they are playing soccer, kicking little soccer balls and then sees the goals, made of candy canes.

“Where on Earth did you find those?” she laughs, twirling her finger so Tobin would turn around. “That is amazing, in such a strange, twisted way,” she marvels. 

“I can not reveal my sources,” Tobin replies, zipping her mouth and locking it with her fingers. 

Christen chuckles, “Thanks for this, babe,” she says as she stands up and approaches her, “this is so sweet and adorable,” she kisses her, “I’m glad you thought of it.” 

Tobin smiles at her, her eyes crinkling with joy, “So am I,” she says, “do you want some hot chocolate?” 

“We have hot chocolate?” Christen questions. Tobin nods and moves to the kitchen area, lifting a thermos, “I’ve got connections,” she grins at her, “want some?” 

“Sure,” Christen grins back at her, her heart feeling full at the thoughtfulness of Tobin’s planning. She heads to the dresser she’s put her clothes in, opening the second drawer and pulling out Tobin’s gift. She sets it under the Christmas tree, turning as Tobin walks toward her with two mugs. She takes one and decides to sit on the floor next to the tree, setting her mug on the rug, leaning back and looking at the tree. 

She hears Tobin rooting around in her suitcase, bringing a brightly wrapped box over to her, kneeling and setting it under the tree and sitting down, carefully balancing her mug.   
She takes a sip and grabs her phone from her sock, playing with it for a moment. 

The sounds of Christmas music begins to play. Christen gives her a smile, looking at her softly, “Thank you for this,” she repeats, “I love it.” 

Christen blushes under her gaze, Tobin’s gentle eyes finding hers again and pulling a smile from her. “I’m really happy to be here with you,” she replies, “so much,” she leans forward and extends her hand and Tobin takes it, bringing it to her lips and kissing it softly. 

Tobin just looks at her, “You are so beautiful,” she says, shaking her head a little, “I’m so happy to be here with you,” she’s building her courage up to say those three little words. “Chris, I-” 

“Oh, wait!” Christen exclaims, scrambling to go to her suitcase, “We’ve got to take pictures!” Tobin lets out a sigh, the moment is gone. Christen comes back with a small digital camera, looking around to find a spot to set it. She pulls the chair out from the desk and pulls the end of the desk over, setting the camera on the end, leaning behind it to make sure it looks good. 

“Stand up,” she extends her hand, Tobin taking it and pulling herself up. 

Christen sets the timer and quickly joins Tobin in front of the tree, slipping her arms around her. “Smile!” Tobin can’t help but smile big at Christen’s enthusiasm. They take a series of photos, standing and then sitting in front of the tree until Christen is satisfied they have gotten some good ones. 

“Presents?” Tobin asks brightly, nodding at her. 

“Presents,” Christen nods, using both hands to pick up the gift for Tobin and handing it to her. Tobin looks surprised at the weight, shakes her head and gets to her knees, leaning over and pulling over Christen’s gift to her.

“You go first,” she insists, “I know how impatient you are,” she grins. 

Christen flashes her a look, struggling not to smile at her, knowing she really can’t wait to see what Tobin got her. Then she shakes her head, “You got me,” she chuckles, “I really can’t wait!” 

She squeals a little as she tears into the paper, seeing it’s a plain brown box with tape along the top, keeping the flaps down. She uses her nail to lift the tape, peeling it off, then opens the flaps, removing the tissue paper and lifting out a bright pink construction helmet. She eyes Tobin suspiciously.

“There’s more,” Tobin encourages, nodding at her with a smile on her face. 

She feels something wrapped in tissue, tearing into it, revealing a pair of sharp looking safety glasses. “What the,” she mutters, setting them aside and digging in again, lifting out something very light. She unwraps it and finds a pretty bandana. 

“Tobin?” she questions, not understanding what this is. 

“Keep going,” Tobin smiles, her eyes dancing. Christen smiles back at her, going back to the box and feeling around. 

The next item is heavy, feels like a hammer or something. She unwraps it, her back straightens with surprise. “A rock hammer?” 

“Keep going,” Tobin chuckles. 

Christen proceeds to unwrap a long handled flat screw driver, an 8” crow bar and a pair of leather gloves. 

“What is this all, babe?” Christen asks. “I don’t understand,” 

“There’s an envelop on the bottom,” Tobin shares, “it’ll all make sense.” 

Christen finds the envelop, tearing it open quickly, pulling out a piece of paper. Her eyes scan over it, her mouth dropping, glancing up at Tobin and then at the paper, then back to Tobin. 

“Really?” she asks breathlessly, a smile spreading across her face. 

Tobin nods, her signature smile beaming at her. 

Christen reads the paper aloud, “A two day gem and mineral excursion at an active Colorado mine,” she scrambles to her knees, leaning over to hug her, “this is amazing!” 

“Have you ever done one of these?” Tobin asks, “I wasn’t sure.” 

“Never!” Christen exclaims, giggling and then kissing her, “Oh, babe,” she says, “this is incredible!” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Tobin smiles, “I was a little nervous you’d done it before.” 

“No, never,” Christen sits back down, picking up the rock hammer, “this is so cool, I don’t have one,”

“Awesome!” Tobin does a little fist pump, “I’m so happy,” 

“When do we go?” Christen picks up the paper, “There’s no date on it?” 

Tobin shrugs, “Whenever,” she says casually, “we can line up our schedules,” 

“Oh, honey!” Christen exclaims, “I can’t wait! This is amazing, I’ve never done something like this,” 

“Well, you’re my rock girl,” Tobin smiles, “and I like them too and want to learn more,” 

Christen just can’t stop smiling, this is one of the most thoughtful and exciting gifts she’s ever received. She gets on her knees once more, leaning forward and kissing Tobin with a force she’s not expecting, making Tobin put her hand back on the floor to support Christen’s weight. 

“I love it,” Christen exhales, looking into Tobin’s warm honey eyes, “I really do,” 

“I’m so glad,” Tobin replies, leaning to kiss her again, then smiling at her. “My turn?” 

Christen nods excitedly, “Yes!” She squirms a little as she sits back down.

“This is heavy,” Tobin comments, pulling the bag on front of herself, taking a sip of her hot chocolate before peering at the inside of the bag that’s filled with festive tissue paper. She slowly takes out each of the pieces of crumpled paper, teasingly eying Christen as she knows the woman is just dying for her to dig in. 

“Will you come on!” Christen finally bursts impatiently, extending a leg and softly kicking Tobin’s knee. 

Tobin laughs, “Alright,” she smiles at her. She lifts out a wrapped, long rectangular box and unwraps it. “What is this?” she murmurs, reading the top of it. Then she sharply looks up at Christen. “You didn’t,” she says, shocked. It’s an airbrush. 

Christen smiles broadly at her, so pleased with her reaction. 

Tobin rapidly dives her hands into the bag, pulling out another wrapped tissue item. She rips it open, revealing a plastic soft case of paints. “Oh, wow,” she marvels at them, running her hand over the cover, then dropping it to the floor and digging in the bag again. With both hands she lifts a heavy box, quickly stripping it of the tissue paper. 

“A compressor!” she exclaims, looking up, “Chris, this is too much,” she shakes her head.

“Nonsense,” Christen smiles at her, “keep going,” she says, “there’s more.” 

Tobin grabs the bag, pulling out everything and laying it on her lap, unwrapping a case of extra set of tips, cleaning fluid, cleaning brushes and extra paint containers and an instruction booklet. 

“There’s an envelop on the bottom,” Christen nods at her. 

Tobin tears open the envelop and just smiles at her. “This is over the top,” she says, waving the gift certificate to Blick. 

“No, you’ll need canvases and whatever else,” Christen replies, “I hope you love it.” 

“Aw, Chris,” Tobin grins, her eyes dancing, “I can’t wait to try it! Thank you so much!” She pushes the compressor out from in front of her, getting to her knees and hugging her,   
“This is so awesome!” 

She kisses her, then hugs her softly, swaying slightly, “What a great gift, Chris,” she says quietly, “it means so much to me,” she kisses her once again, “thank you.” She leans back, examining her airbrush stuff, opening the box and inspecting the tool. 

“So, I went to Blick,” Christen explains, “and the guy there was very helpful,” she nods, “by the way, that place is amazing!” 

“Yeah, isn’t it so cool? There’s like, a million things to look at.” Tobin grins. 

“Yes!” Christen agrees, “Anyway, I explained that you live in an apartment,” she continues, “and he recommended these paints because they give off a low odor,” she explains, “and this specific airbrush is designed for lefties,” 

“Aw Chris,” Tobin shakes her head, “thanks,” she appreciates the detail that Christen went to make sure it would work for her. “Lefty stuff is hard to come by sometimes,” she says. 

“It’s got to be difficult,” Christen comments, realizing that until she was asking the guy at the store, she never seriously considered the hardships of those left handed. 

“You should see me use scissors,” Tobin rolls her eyes. 

“But they make lefty ones,” Christen states. 

Tobin shakes her head, “I used regular ones for so long, I can’t use them,” she explains. 

Tobin stops looking at her gift, looking up at her, “Chris, thank you so much,” she says, heartfully, “this is gonna be so rad,” 

 

Too keyed up and excited from their gifts, Tobin and Christen settle on the bed, Tobin reading the instructional booklet for her airbrush and Christen on her phone, reading up on the mine in Colorado. 

“Tobin!” Christen quietly exclaims, nudging her, “This place is amazing!” 

“It looked pretty cool,” Tobin grins at her, leaning over to see her phone. 

“I like that while they strip mine, they reforest the area,” Christen comments, scrolling through the photo gallery, “it’s a pretty great set up,” she gasps, “topaz, amazonite, quartz, aquamarine,” she turns to Tobin, “this is wonderful!” 

“Well, we only have two days to find anything,” Tobin cautions, “we don’t know if we’ll get lucky,” 

“Oh, I know,” Christen nods, “but the thrill of the hunt is going to be incredible!” The two smile at each other with big cheesy grins. 

Tobin taps her booklet, “This is so rad,” she says, “I can’t wait to experiment with it.” 

“I’m glad you like it, honey,” Christen nuzzles against her. Tobin tosses the booklet onto to the bedside table, “I love it,” she says softly, turning to kiss her, “I love it so much,”   
Christen tosses her phone aside to bring her arms around Tobin, kissing her passionately. Their comical pajamas are quickly shed, the only sounds in the room are their heavy breathing as they slide together. 

Their touches seem to speak to each other, not just content to make the other feel good, but to convey meaning and emotions which run deeper than their words could ever explain. It’s not hurried or rushed, both of them intent on using meaningful touches, communicating with their bodies. Late into the night they please each other, satisfying the carnal hunger they possess and need to pursue, bringing one another to multiple climaxes. 

Spent, they sleep, curled together, breathing in sync, blissed out from their activities. 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

December 20, 2015 

Day 51 

 

 

“So,” Tobin says as they eat lunch in the bar they ordered their first meal from after Tobin’s hospitalization, “we both leave on the 23rd,” 

Christen nods, “I’m back on the 27th,” she says, sipping her iced tea. 

“And I’m back on the 28th,” Tobin adds, “that flight is gonna suck,” she makes a face. Her parents divorced a few years ago, fracturing their family. Tobin, after much time, contemplation and work from both of them, managed to salvage the relationship with her father. Her other siblings didn’t, so Tobin is the only one who makes the effort to see him. This year she’ll fly to Florida for Christmas with her Mom and siblings, then up to New Jersey to celebrate the holiday with her Dad. 

“You leave the 3rd,” Christen states, “for camp, right?” 

Tobin nods, “Back on the 12th, help Alex pack up, then the party on the 15th.” 

“It’s still a surprise, right?” Christen looks up at her. 

“Yeah,” Tobin grins, “Allie and Bati will pick up Servando at the airport and bring him to Rosie’s, anyone that’s in town from the team will be there, her parents are coming and so are her sisters, too.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Christen smiles, “a nice send off for her.” 

“I figured to do it on Friday,” Tobin smirks, “’cause she leaves Sunday and would kill me if she was hungover flying all the way to Florida. ”

“If she didn’t,” Christen smirks back at her, “I imagine Servando would for having to deal with it.” 

Tobin laughs, “You got that right!” 

“But we’re still on for dinner when we get back from here, right?” Christen confirms. 

Tobin nods as she finishes, “Yes,” she says, wiping her mouth with her napkin, “me, you, Alex, Allie and Bati,” 

“At Rosie’s?”   
“Uh huh,” Tobin says, “Alex wants to match you beer for beer,” 

“Good thing classes don’t start until the following week,” Christen shakes her head. 

They continue to eat in silence, both hungry from the workout they did at the hotel’s fitness room. Christen is determined to get her mileage up on the treadmill so she can match Tobin’s pace when the weather breaks and they can run together. 

“Babe?” Christen asks as she finishes her chicken dish, “Can I ask you something?” 

Tobin smiles at her, “You know you can,” she says. 

“How are you feeling about living alone?” 

Tobin leans back in her seat, nodding thoughtfully, “Well,” she says, tilting her head a little, “I’ve never lived alone before,” she says slowly, “but I think it’s time.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, “I’d like to be able to leave my paint stuff out overnight, not have to clean it up every time I drag it out,” she says, “I’d like to have people over whenever I want,” she shrugs, “I’d like to have a place for someone to stay when they come to visit,” 

“I get that,” Christen nods, “you’ve been on your own for a long time,” she says, “but always living with at least one roommate?” 

Tobin nods at her, “Yeah,” she says, “I’d like to be able to do my own thing,” 

Christen smiles at her, “Growing up a little, Heath?” 

“Maybe,” Tobin chuckles, holding two fingers up, pressed together, “just a little.” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

The two braved the cold and trudged to the end of the pier, entering the lighthouse, warming up as they toured the tiny museum. They were greeted by the keeper, who explained the history and purpose of the building, how it guarded ships from crashing into shore, tales of wrecks and storms the tower withstood over time. They looked at the photos and the artifacts as he spoke. He invited them to climb the stairs and see the view from the top, telling them he would be in his office if they had any questions when they came down. 

“This is making me dizzy,” Tobin chuckles as she slides her hand along the rail, steadily climbing higher up the tower. 

“Be careful,” Christen cautions from behind her, “if you trip, you’re taking me with you.” 

The scene at the top takes their breaths away. The vast ocean in front of them, waves crashing on the breakfront, looking dangerous and angry. The horizon line, seemingly uncertain as it mixes with the looming clouds in the distance. 

They turn to the North, seeing the forest, the peaks of the mountains, a land they lived in for a short but impacting time. 

To the South, more trees, less mountain peaks to be seen, the island drifting and tailing towards the East. Closer to them, the harbor half full of tall and impressive fishing ships, the commercial ones that go out for weeks at a time. Smaller, private charters and a few private boats bob in the swirling waters. 

The East is the town, looking so much smaller than they realized, peaks of a couple of churches, the six story hotel is the tallest building in town. How the homes stretch out further from town, the airport looking positively tiny. 

They both turn back to the water, hands on the inner rail, glad to be inside, warm and not in the elements. 

Tobin turns to Christen, studying her as her eyes gaze out at the ocean, wondering what her thoughts are. Without looking, Christen moves her gloved hand to cover the top of Tobin’s squeezing it gently. 

Tobin’s chest feels as if it would burst, suddenly feeling overwhlemed with emotion. She let’s out a shaky breath, staring at Christen. This is it. She is the one. I love her. A tear slides down Tobin’s cheek, and she sniffs, which causes Christen to turn her head and look at her. 

“Babe?” she questions, tilting her head, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Tobin is grinning stupidly at her, her cheeks wet with tears. 

“Honey, are you crying?” Christen now turns her body to face Tobin, squeezing the woman’s hand, her concern peaking. 

“I don’t know,” Tobin sniffs, “Yeah, I think so,” she chuckles, “Chris,” she says, taking a step closer to her and bringing her hands up to hold onto Christen’s biceps, “Chris,” Tobin exhales, her grin changing to that amazing smile that makes Christen’s heart flutter.

They both look at each, mesmerized by the softness in each other’s eyes, the warmth and affection radiating from them both. 

“I love you,” they say at the same time. 

Christen is too distracted by Tobin’s brilliant smile and how her eyes are crinkled with happiness and she doesn’t hear what she says. “Wait, what?” she asks. 

“Huh?” Tobin asks tilting her head, “What did you say?” 

“I said I love you,” Christen repeats, letting out a shaky breath. 

Tobin smiles and blinks at her, dumbfounded for a second. “Oh, babe,” she says, tearing up a little herself, “I love you, too,” she shakes her head, “like, for real?” 

Christen laughs loudly, “Yes, for real!” she squints at her, “I love you,” she says tenderly, “like, I never want to be without you for the rest of my life, I love you,” her eyes shine with happiness, tears beginning to spill over and run down her cheeks. 

Tobin’s eyes widen, “I never want to be without you,” she says, sniffing now because she’s really crying. 

Christen pulls her in for a hug, burying her head in the crook of Tobin’s neck, swaying slowly as she feels Tobin’s hands grip her back, pressing them together tighter. They hold each other for a long time, both calming themselves and then pulling apart to look at one another. 

“I love you,” Tobin repeats, lifting a gloved hand to Christen’s jaw, bringing her close for a slow kiss. They let their foreheads touch, Tobin with her eyes closed. 

“Tobin Heath,” Christen says softly, just above a whisper, “when I first laid eyes on you fifty-one days ago, I never dreamed I would be standing here with you today,” she says, “but I’m so glad the universe allowed us to meet,” she says emotionally, “now that I know what an amazing person you are,” she sniffs, “I’m so grateful you’re in my life, I never want to let you go,” 

Tobin sniffs as she smiles at her, “Chris,” she sniffs, “I firmly believe God put you in my life,” she says passionately, “you get me, you accept me for who I am and how am I, you’re willing to put up with the crazy life I have and we have such trust and respect for each other. You challenge me in the best ways, to be better, to listen to what you mean and not what you say. You are so kind and loving, and meeting you and growing to love you is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me.” 

They kiss passionately, soft moans coming from them both as they as kiss. When they part, they look at each other, smiles spreading on their faces. 

“I love you,” Tobin breathes, “I love you so much,” 

Christen grins, “I love you,” she says breathlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” she giggles. 

Tobin glances around, “We should head out,” she suggests, “I think they’re closing soon,” Christen nods, taking Tobin’s hand in hers, leading her to the stairs. They hold hands as they carefully descend the steps, both unable to wipe the smiles from their faces. 

They bid the docent of the museum goodbye and zip up their jackets to brave the cold and depart. 

As they walk hand in hand, they each keep casting glances at one another, as if unable to believe they have just professed their love to each other. 

As they get closer to the hotel, Christen glances around, “What do you want to do now?” 

Tobin shrugs, “Never let you go,” she says casually, swinging their interlocked hands as they walk. 

Christen stops walking, squeezing Tobin’s hand to pull her back. 

“What, babe?” Tobin questions, a little confused. 

Christen looks at Tobin, smiling at her, “I love you,” she says, “I really do,” 

Tobin gives her that smile, the one that makes her weak in the knees, “I love you so much,” she breathes, shaking her head a little, “I almost don’t know what to do with myself,”   
She takes Christen in her arms, holding her tight and kisses her, then she buries her head in near Christen’s neck, lifting Christen in the air and spinning her around on the empty sidewalk. Christen is squealing, alternating holding on and smacking Tobin to put her down. 

They’re both breathless when Tobin sets her down, grinning as they look at each other. 

“I never want to let you go, either, babe,” Christen smiles, leaning in to kiss Tobin gently. 

“I feel like I’m flying,” Tobin admits, taking her hand again as they begin to walk again. 

“Me too,” Christen nods, “it’s” she pauses to find the correct word. 

“Exhilarating,” Tobin finishes, smiling at her with such affection. 

“Exhilarating,” Christen repeats, “yeah, that’s perfect.” 

They walk a little ways until Christen stops and points, “An arcade!” she exclaims, Tobin following her hand to look across the street and see the building. 

“You wanna go?” Christen asks excitedly. 

Tobin nods, walking her to the nearest corner to cross the street, “To have you kick my ass once again,” she chuckles, “it was such a pleasure last time, why not?” 

“I don’t think you remember much of last time,” Christen smirks, “you were wasted.” 

“Yeah, well,” Tobin looks at the place as they approach the building, “today I have a three beer limit,” she states noticing the beer signs in the window, “I really don’t want to fly home tomorrow with a hangover,” 

Christen laughs, “Honey, our flight isn’t until six,” she pulls her towards the doors.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tobin grins, “drunk or sober, you’re still gonna kick my ass,” 

Christen shrugs, “Gotta get in some training before I face off against Alex,” 

Now Tobin laughs, “Oh man,” she holds her side, “I can’t wait for it!” 

“You ready for the massacre?” Christen asks her, her eyes dancing as she grins at Tobin. 

“I’ll love every minute,” Tobin grins, “because I love you,” 

Christen kisses her, “I love you, too honey,” she says, swinging the door open, “let the games begin!” 

 

 

XXXX

 

 

That night, they lie in bed, both naked and slick with sweat, panting as Tobin is still feeling the effects from last orgasm. Christen is lying on her side, half on Tobin, her head to the side of Tobin’s, breathing heavy. She’s got a leg in between Tobin’s spread ones, her hand on Tobin’s chest. 

“Incredible,” Tobin pants, turning her head to place a kiss on the side of Christen’s head. Her hips flinch from an aftershock, Christen’s leg rubbing against her overly sensitive core, “Uh,” she moans, pressing her hips into the mattress, “babe,” she pants, “your leg,” Tobin is feeling overwhelmed by the sensation. 

Christen issues a chuckle, beginning to kiss Tobin’s neck, “What, babe?” she questions, her hot breath on Tobin’s neck. 

“Can you,” Tobin pants, “move your leg?” 

“Like this?” Christen asks, gliding it over her again, making Tobin squirm. “Uhh,” Tobin gasps, “not exactly,” she whimpers, her arms straining against the bonds that tie her to the bedpost. 

“But I like doing this,” Christen teases as she picks up the pace, her head up and seeing how Tobin’s eyes are clamped shut, her mouth open, noisily inhaling and exhaling. 

“Oh, God!” Tobin moans out, her hips moving with Christen movements, “Don’t stop!” she pleads as she feels yet another orgasm barreling through her. 

When Christen looks up as she releases Tobin’s nipple from her mouth, she sees how Tobin’s chin is mashed against her chest, eyes, closed, her teeth clenched and showing and her forehead deeply furrowed as she rides out this latest climax. Christen widens her view to see how Tobin’s arm muscles are popped, straining against the makeshift bonds Christen used to tie her to the bedpost. 

Christen quickens her pace, swearing she can see Tobin’s eyes rolling back under her eyelids, a prolonged, loud animalistic cry emanating from her lips as she crashes back on the mattress, spent. Christen slides to the side, remembering to move her leg off Tobin and rests her head in her hand, up on one elbow, intent on watching Tobin as she comes down from this last orgasm. 

It’s a sight to see, really, Christen’s eyes slowing roaming over Tobin’s body, seeing how even in this relaxed state of bliss, the muscles on Tobin’s legs are defined. If Christen had thought Tobin was in shape when they first met, she’s woefully unprepared to see her as she is gaining her form for the season. 

Her eyes move up the apex of her legs, viewing the scant hair, wet and matted down, how her inner thighs seem shiny from their shared juices. She marvels at how the dim light of the room sends a highlight from the sheen of sweat across Tobin’s torso, creating shadows in the crevices of her defined abdominals, how she can identify the growing v-line that encloses her near eight pack. She watches as Tobin’s chest expands and contracts with her heavy breathing, the slight definition of her pecs, how her small breasts are so pert, the smallish nipples standing at attention, swollen from Christen’s mouth. 

Higher she looks, seeing how Tobin’s lat muscles flare out the sides of her chest, so defined, how her arms muscles are so cut, Christen just might be able to identify each one, even in Tobin’s state of rest. 

Christen looks at Tobin’s face, her eyes are still shut, mouth open, the area around her mouth shiny with Christen’s juices from she rode her face a few times. God, how talented Tobin is with her tongue, the thought makes Christen shiver, relishing in the feeling. Her lashes are resting against her cheeks, tiny beads of sweat under her eyes with larger ones on her forehead, her hair wet and matted against her scalp. 

I love this woman, Christen thinks, feeling her heart race at the thought of knowing that Tobin loves her back. Tenderly she uses two fingers to push back some of the wet hair tangle on Tobin’s forehead, then moving her hand to ghost over Tobin’s jaw. 

Tobin’s eyes flutter open, looking warm and sleepy and content and satisfied, that model smile appearing when she sees how Christen is looking down at her so lovingly. She holds her gaze, studying Christen’s face, her smooth skin, her delicate features, how she can seem so soft, but strong. 

Tobin looks in the her eyes, seeing how her irises are darkened this beautiful shade of green on the outer ring, shader itself lighter in these greens and greys that she can just look at forever. How her eyes aren’t fully open, a slightly sleepy gaze, her skin crinkled in the corners with affection and love. Love. 

I love this woman, Tobin thinks, her own smile growing wider, feeling her eyes opening more, brightening as she feels that surge of love, that incredible feeling in realizing she’s found her person, the one she wants to be with for the rest of her life. 

“There is no way you can this to me on a game day, Chris,” Tobin smiles even wider at her, “I can’t move,” 

Christen smiles big at her, letting out a cute little chuckle, “Well, I’ll admit, I may have gone a little overboard with you tonight,” 

“A little?” Tobin questions, letting out a breath, “I can’t feel my legs, babe,” 

“Well,” Christen nods, “that would impede your job, huh?” she says as she leans down and gives her a soft kiss, “we’ll just have to experiment and find the right formula, I guess,” 

“I like the sound of that, Dr. Press,” Tobin grins, “sounds scientific,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

Christen shakes her head, “I love you, Tobin,” she says quietly, “I really do,” 

“I love you, too, Chris,” Tobin says, her voice filled with raw emotion, “you’re my everything, and I can’t wait for our future,” 

“Me either,” Christen grins, “what do you say we sleep now?” she questions, “It’s pretty late,” 

“Uh, do you think you could untie me?” Tobin gives her arms a little tug. 

“What do you say, Tobin?” Christen looks at her with an arched eyebrow and a glint in her eye.

“Please?” 

Christen shakes her head with a sly look. 

“Dr. Press, would you please release me?” Tobin asks politely. Christen had once told Tobin how sexy she found it when Tobin would call her Dr. Press so sometimes she would playfully demand she address her that way. 

“Of course,” Christen grins, moving to untie the scarves. 

“The things you do to me, woman,” Tobin sighs, “I love it.” 

 

After a shower, the two are snuggled together in the bed, just on the edge of sleep. 

“I love you,” Tobin says, “I can’t wait for what’s ahead of us,” 

“I love you, babe,” Christen says, nuzzling closer, “sleep now, we’ve got a busy day tomorrow,” 

Tobin finds sleep with a smile on her face, still blown away with how only just under two months ago she was single and now she’s found the woman of her dreams. 

 

Fini.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around, this has ben a fun ride, I can't believe it's over. 
> 
> Engaging with you guys in the comments has been super cool, love hearing the feedback and the positive notes were so touching and appreciated. 
> 
> Shout out to CBC, I think, for calling the gifts- it tickled me that you saw the clues! 
> 
>  
> 
> So this story, it's kinda…dark. Two players are having a long term relationship and when of them wants more, it changes the whole dynamic. The one of them is playing out of this world and it unexpectedly creates an imbalance in the relationship. 
> 
> Shit happens back and forth, fracturing the National Team and the friendships between players. Meanwhile, our couple is having serious issues and it starts to become dangerous. The mind games come to a head, making both of the women feel as if they're losing their minds. 
> 
> Will someone be able to step in and save the team before the Olympics? Will that person be able to the save minds of her teammates? 
> 
> A full rollercoaster ride of angst, new love, old love, wounds and healing. 
> 
>  
> 
> Intrigued? Tell me what you think?

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this happened. Swore I wasn't gonna do another Preath, but, well, here it is. What are you thinking?


End file.
